Every Purpose Under Heaven
by PleasantlyWeird
Summary: Tommy has a long road to healing after Sparta. Maybe his redemption comes from helping someone else redeem themselves. Tommy/OC
1. Chapter 1

_Five million dollars._

Tommy shook his head and smiled ruefully at the thought. The money was never meant to line his pockets; every single penny had been destined for Pilar and the kids; the widow and offspring of his dead Marine brother. Still, the smell of the money had been practically in his nostrils, within his grasp, and it had been taken away from him by his own brother.

The winner-take-all fighting event known as Sparta had been the turning point in his life; one that he'd needed for a long time. It had marked the beginning of the end of running away. He'd run away as a teenager with his mother to escape the abuse of his drunken father. Little had he known at the time that his brother Brendan would also be in the rearview mirror of that shitty old Ford. Tommy had been numb when Brendan had told him that he was staying to be near Tess. It didn't equate that some stupid girl could have been more important that his own ma and brother. It really didn't equate that Brendan would choose to stay behind and endure more of the hell that his father threw down on a daily basis.

His mom had driven all the way across the country, hadn't stopped until the ocean halted their travels west. Then she'd driven as far north as possible and they'd started a new life in Washington State. Things had been good for a while; his mother had never laughed so loud or smiled so widely. She'd seemed like a new person and it had rejuvenated Tommy in ways he hadn't thought possible. It had felt like a whole planet of worry had been lifted from his 16 year old shoulders. But then he'd begun to notice the way his mom's color seemed off, like she was fading. He'd also started to hear her in the bathroom late at night, when she'd been sure he was sleeping. He'd heard her retching and agonized moans that she'd obviously stifled with a wash cloth or something like it from the muffled sound of it. But young Tommy Conlon hadn't wanted to believe that God could be that fucking cruel. Surely he'd already paid in full at the hands of his pop; surely his ma was owed something for not letting that Irish bastard break her.

The first winter in Washington went quickly and when summer hit it had become more obvious that something was seriously wrong with his mother. She'd been burning hot to the touch but her body refused to sweat. Her hair, her lovely red hair, had fallen out in clumps every time she ran a comb or brush through it. Tommy had begged his mom to go to the doctor but she had only smiled at him and told him that God would provide a way for her to be well. She had honestly believed that right up to the end. Even as her body had started to produce cysts that painfully emerged through her skin and burst. Even as she had vomited blood and could no longer keep water down. Even as her eyesight had faded to nothing and she had been bedridden. Even as she had struggled to form the words to beg Tommy to rub her arms and legs down with holy water and to pray for her.

For years after her death he had blamed himself. He'd prayed for his ma but he hadn't had any faith that it would help. The words were practiced but hollow; pretty sounding but empty. He might as well have been praying to the bum on the corner who had unfailing asked for a "fucking dollar" every time he'd run to St. Anthony's to refill the Holy Water. Tommy had never believed there was a God; if there was he was a fucking jerk for letting people like Paddy Conlon, his father, beat on a saint like his mother.

The summer his Mother had passed had been the hottest one in history for Washington. She had smelled so bad, more like death than any living thing ever should. She'd kept calling out for Brendan but Tommy hadn't known how to get in touch with him, hadn't wanted to risk speaking to Paddy if he'd called the old house looking for his brother. That bastard had had no right even knowing that his wife was close to death. All Tommy had been able to do was hold her hand and pray those empty words into her ear. His sweet mother had fought the good fight, but at 3:13 on a humid, hot Monday morning she had sat straight up in the bed and smiled. "I know you," she had whispered to someone that Tommy hadn't been able to see, and then she had lain back gently and breathed her last.

Tommy had found himself living on the streets of Tacoma four months shy of his 17th birthday. Once he'd turned 17, with the help of a recruiter, he'd gotten his GED and joined the Marine Corps, essentially running away again. He had fit into the military like a hand in a glove. He had loved the discipline, embraced the brotherhood and had actually been excited when his card had been pulled for a tour in Iraq. That's where he had met Manny, where he'd found a real brother, a brother who wouldn't desert him.

Tommy shakes his head, refusing to think about Manny. It's too painful still to think about the loss. The alarm clock chirps on his bedside table and he reaches a heavy hand out to stop the annoying sound.

_I don't know why I set the fucking thing_, he thinks to himself. He never sleeps through the night anymore, not since he stopped taking multiple pills to induce a full 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. It was robbing Peter to pay Paul when he thought about it. He wasn't poisoning himself with the chemicals anymore but now he wasn't sleeping more than three or four hours a night. It didn't matter how much he trained, how hard he fought in the ring, his body refused to give him a dreamless reprieve.

At five a.m. there ain't much going on, even in Pittsburgh. Luckily there is a mom and pop kind of diner right around the corner that is open 24 hours. Lily, who runs the place this time of morning, always knows to make him an egg white omelet with dry wheat toast; sometimes it's waiting at his usual spot at the counter when he walks in the door, steaming hot. Lily had joked with Tommy on several occasions in her smokers rasp that she's psychic. He doesn't doubt her for a second; she's almost spooky with her predictions of when he will show up and what he'll be in the mood for.

Sighing loudly Tommy rolls over to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees on the cold floor. Shifting onto his toes he feels and hears several loud pops issue from both of his knees. Stretching his arms up above his head, a myriad of smaller, less noisy sounds come from his back as he does his best to realign his vertebrae. A fighter's life is hard; no matter how well you're trained the toll it takes on your body is inevitable. Every morning is like this, Tommy laughs as he realizes he sounds like a bowl of Rice Krispies instead of a human being.

Standing slowly he bends from side to side, feeling his body respond to the cold air of his apartment. The air conditioner runs 365 days a year in this place. After that summer in Tacoma and the time he spent in the Iraqi desert, he has no tolerance for heat when he tries to sleep. Even the hot air of the gym gets to be too much sometimes. Speaking of, if he doesn't get his ass in gear he might be late for work.

After Sparta he'd been sent to Camp Pendleton and has spent nine months in the brig for something he didn't let himself think about anymore. His record had been expunged at the behest of a nation of newfound fans and the urging of the Corps psychologist assigned to him. PTSD had been the official diagnosis. He didn't argue but he also didn't really feel right about being let off the hook for deserting his unit. After he made his way back to Pennsyvania Tommy had spent a month with Brendan, Tess and the girls. It hadn't taken long to realize that even though a lot had been resolved in the ring there was still a mountain of unresolved conflict between him and his brother. It had all come to a head one night after too many Cerveza Modelo's and shots of Patron. Both he and his brother had been two toes over the line and in the mood to do some truth telling. It seems that deep down he really wasn't over his feelings of abandonment by his brother and Brendan wasn't over not being told that their mom was sick. It had come to blows and this time it had been Brendan who had gotten the short end of the stick. Tess had called the cops, he'd spent the night in the drunk-tank and the two brothers hadn't really spoken since. Brendan had called a few times since, wanting to talk but Tommy just hadn't felt ready; so the calls went unreturned, the hard feelings festered and the divide grew wider with each passing day.

Paddy was another matter entirely. Even though they had made an uneasy truce during the Sparta trip Tommy was no closer to the man than he had been before. Try as he might he just couldn't make himself feel anything towards his Pop anymore. There wasn't even anger there now, just blatant indifference. Somehow it seemed that feeling nothing towards his old man hurt more than being pissed at him. So since the day he'd comforted the old drunk in the hotel in Atlantic City there had been zero talk between the two of them. If the man knew that Tommy was back in Pittsburgh it was because Brendan had told him although he doubted that line of communication was open either.

After the blow up with Brendan he'd meandered back to his pre-Sparta stomping grounds and had asked Colt Boyd for a job at the gym. Tommy suspected that originally he'd given him one because he knew curiosity of the runner up from Sparta would bring in more business, and he was right. Eventually a friendship had grown between the two and he was someone that Tommy considered more than just an acquaintance. It didn't mean they were holding hands and taking warm showers together. It just meant that Colt knew him well enough to not ask him too many questions and to trust him with keys to the business. Tommy spent most of his time there, either training himself or training others. Colt was always ribbing him about how the female membership had risen by 50 percent since Tommy had started offering personal training there. Colt knew Tommy well enough to run when he said shit like that too. The pay was good, he got a base salary from Colt and a percentage of all personal training he did. It was enough for the apartment and anything else he needed.

Tommy jumps into a tepid shower just to clean the remnants of the ever present night terror sweats off. It never fails that no matter how cold the air in the apartment, he will wake up screaming, shaking and drenched. The dream never varies; Manny is there, dangling over the void, reaching out his hand for help. Tommy never makes it in time to grab that hand, only in time to see the last finger hold slip, to peer over the edge of the precipice as Manny screams and falls into the abyss. Then he sees Pilar's face streaming with tears, then Manny's poor fatherless kids. The little boy who looks like a miniature of his father looks at him with disgust and slowly raises an accusing finger to point at him. That's when he shoots straight up out of the bed and has to pace the room, sometimes for an hour, to get his mind and heart rate slowed.

It takes less than ten minutes to shower and dress. He'll jog the mile and a half to the diner and then another three to Colt's gym. He's off today but will spend the whole day there taking out his frustration on the equipment and any fool dumb enough to step in the ring with him. You'd think after his showing at Sparta and the YouTube video of him destroying Mad Dog Grimes in the same gym he works at that people would know better. Shit, Colt had had to make up a separate waiver for anyone who decided to try their luck in the ring with Tommy Conlon. And believe it or not, fools keep trying. In a way it makes sense; most of these morons are 'roid raging and their gusto is writing checks their ass can't cover. There have only been three fighters who have even gotten a punch in and each of those have only served to make him see red.

Then there are the ones who like to come to the gym and talk smack; the ones who say that the whole fight at Sparta had been set up between the two brothers and that they had split the money between them. No amount of protesting from Tommy would ever change their minds so he doesn't bother. He knows the truth and that is all that matters.

The truth is that the night of the Brothers Brawl Royale in the new house his sibling had splurged on with a good chunk of the prize money; Brendan had told him that he and Tess had decided to give him one million of the purse. Tommy had declined, had been insulted. He couldn't understand how Brendan didn't realize that the money was never meant for him. Looking back now he should have taken it and sent it to Pilar, but at the time all he could feel was rage and resentment at the thought that his brother was trying to buy forgiveness that he didn't earn.

Tommy slows his pace to a brisk walk as soon as he sees the neon of the diner sign. His breath comes out in huffs, forming large clouds in front of his face in the cold morning air. He's broken a sweat and it pisses him off. He feels better if he can push himself and not sweat; it makes him feel more like a machine than a man for some reason. Machines don't feel, don't think, they just do. It's probably the deep seated reason he builds his body up like he does, the process is mindless, and the repetition doesn't require thought.

As he enters the diner he sees that his food is ready, steaming on the plate. There is a side of home fries on a separate plate and he shudders. He had seriously been thinking of adding the extra carbs this morning since he planned on doubling his workout and skipping lunch. The old woman was uncanny…

"Morning Tommy dear," Lily rasps from the grill without turning around. Her voice reminds him of an old crow cawing. She's wearing the same uniform as always, a blue pinstriped shirt with a Dale's Diner logo embroidered on the front pocket, a navy blue half apron that she shoves her pack of Winston's and a lighter into, and navy blue slacks. Then there are the candy apple red high heels that aren't befitting of a woman of her age but that she never fails to have on. Tommy likes to joke that she'd never be able to see over the counter without them.

"Mornin' Lil'," Tommy calls back as he takes a seat in his usual spot. The smell of her Charlie perfume mixes with the grease and onion smell of the diner. It's not a particularly nice smell but it's comforting because it's become familiar to him. As he digs into his omelet he hears a muffled snore coming from one of the booths further back in the narrow building.

"Some chick came in with a guy about an hour ago. He left her there. Figured I'd just let her sleep it off, call her a cab when she came to," Lily answered as if she knew what he was about to ask. The older woman was busy running a wire brush over the flat top grill, scrubbing away grease and burnt on food.

The potatoes are sinfully good; something Tommy very rarely allows himself. The grease and pepper are enough to make his eyes roll back in his head. He hasn't spared the snoring woman another thought until Lily comes over and stands in front of him. She pops a piece of Juicy Fruit into her mouth and gestures towards the booth with a nod of her head.

"Not a bad looking little heifer. She's in bad shape though; looks like the creep who dumped her here mighta roughed her up before they came in."

Tommy's nostrils flare at the implication. He downs the last of his potatoes along with half a piece of toast in one bite and washes it down with an entire glass of milk. He stands, wiping his mouth, and slaps down enough money to cover his meal along with his usual tip. He gives Lily a curt smile and turns to head out the door. _Not your fucking problem_, he chants to himself mentally. The snoring gets louder and then he hears a cough. Something about it stops him in his tracks. It reminds him of the wet, hacking cough his mother had at the end.

_Looks like the creep who dumped her here mighta roughed her up before they came in._

Lily's words echo through him and he spins on his heels, heading back to the source of the sounds.

Tommy looks down into the padded seat of the booth at the tiny frame of the woman. Immediately the smell hits him and he reaches down to pull her hair from over her face. She's lying in a puddle of vomit and a great amount of it is coming out of her nose.

"Lily, call an ambulance!" Tommy calls as he lifts the woman's head up and uses his fingers to clear as much as he can from her airways.

He hears the phone beep as the cook calls for help. The snoring is lighter now that her nose is emptied. Tommy leans in to get a better look at her.

"Oh shit, Penny…" is all he has time to say before she vomits again. He turns her head to the side in time to keep her airways clear, his meager military medical training kicking in. He tries to lift her up in the seat to keep her from aspirating into her lungs if she hasn't already. That's when he notices the track marks on her arm.

"Lily, tell them to be prepared for a possible heroin overdose."

_Fuckin' hell Penny, how did you end up like this?_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Between the radiant white of a clear conscience and the coal black of a conscience sullied by sin lie many shades of gray-where most of us live our lives. Not perfect but not beyond redemption."

― Sherry L. Hoppe

Tommy refused the EMT's offer to ride in the ambulance with Penny to the hospital. He chose to run the six miles or so since he didn't think he would make it into the gym. If it had been some random chick he wouldn't have given her a second thought once the ambulance arrived. But this was Penny Denton, the literal girl next door from his childhood. She had been his constant companion up until eighth grade when his wrestling tournaments and training had taken over his life. She had been there to see the bruises, the bloody noses and the sprains. She'd been his first date to the drive in when they'd doubled with Brendan and Tess at the age of 14. She'd been his first partner, both of them desperate virgins who had made a pact to lose it together. She'd kept her promise the night before he'd fled the state with his Ma. In the back seat of that shitty Ford surrounded by the smell of cheap upholstery and a cherry scented air freshener he'd taken her innocence and surrendered his to her.

She'd known he was leaving and was saying goodbye to the boy whom she admitted that she'd always thought she'd marry one day. It was never that set in stone for Tommy but he knew that she would always be special to him and not just because he'd popped her cherry. She had been his comfort when things were at their worst with his dad. She knew the whole story because he had always escaped with her when the shit hit the fan. He would jump the fence dividing their yards and call out to her then they would run like their lives depended on it to Collazo Park. Together they would hide out under the trees while she tended his wounds, both physical and emotional. She would listen to him as he ranted about how much he hated Paddy, how he wished that something would happen to the old man down at the Mill so that he'd never come home. He had raged and screamed, swinging his fists at the air and into trees until his knuckles bled and she never once shied away from him. When he would finally calm down he would sob silently into her shoulder and she would just hold him; she always knew that no words were necessary, all he'd needed was her touch. He'd loved her for that, well as much as a shell shocked bastard like him _could_ love someone. She was the only person who ever saw his tears because he knew she didn't judge him as weak for letting them out.

Penny Denton had been the blonde-haired, green-eyed savior of his youth, his island of sanity in a sea of turmoil and he'd left her behind the day he learned how to run away. He'd left her behind without so much as glance back, never called her, never wrote, never really thought about her a whole lot until today when he saw her lying in a pool of her own vomit.

There had been a few times that she'd popped into his mind in the years since he left. Maybe subconsciously she was the reason he had never messed with blondes. All the women he had been with since her (which, contrary to popular belief, didn't amount to more than he could count on one hand) had been dark haired, dark eyed. In a way it seemed that to fuck around with another blonde would have been an insult to her memory. He had placed her on the proverbial pedestal in his mind and wouldn't allow anything to sully it. He hadn't even been with another woman besides her until he joined the Marines. His second time had been right after graduating from boot camp. He'd picked up a Semper slut from Mickey Finns outside of Quantico. The resulting hurried fumble in the back seat of her Santa Fe had been less than satisfactory. He'd been suffering from a bad case of whisky dick and she'd started to lose interest pretty quickly. But that could sum up pretty much every sexual encounter he'd had since.

There hadn't been any female in his life, there wasn't room. He had a shit ton of baggage and no room for a passenger. The rage and anger inside of him would never allow him to feel love for anyone; that ability died with his mother. He wouldn't even begin to know what it would feel like to actually love someone since he didn't even love himself. Shit, he didn't even like himself. He was merely indifferent to the rest of the world but he couldn't bring himself to subject anyone else to the hell he lived with every day.

As he neared the hospital he slowed his pace and tried to calm his breathing. Thinking about the past had resulted in him pushing himself harder than normal so he was drenched in sweat and out of breath. Tommy wondered to himself what had happened in the years since that had led Penny into shooting smack and dating shitbags that would leave her to die alone in a greasy diner.

Her home life had always seemed idyllic. She had parents who loved her and each other; she was a spoiled ass only child whose father bought her anything she batted her eyes at. He'd always looked at her life with envy but there had always been this look in her eyes that he couldn't place until he was at war in Iraq. She had the same look that so many soldiers who had been through things that they couldn't talk about wore. The hundred yard stare they'd called it; more like lights on but no one is home he'd called it. But he'd been the one with all the trauma, surely if something had been going on she would have told him; surely she knew that she could have told Tommy anything.

The night that he'd screwed her in the backseat of his getaway car she had cried afterwards. She'd known all along that he was leaving but had been the one who decided for them both that it was the right thing to do. It hadn't lasted long; they'd ended up embracing each other afterwards for longer than the actual act took. She hadn't said anything to him until he had crawled out of the backseat and buttoned up his pants.

"I wish I could run away with you, Tommy Conlon," she had whispered as tears streamed down her face.

"Whatchu need to run away for, you have everything here," he'd snorted. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to make her feel bad for having such a good life.

"You think you know about what I live with but you don't. No one does."

She'd climbed out of the car and kissed him before quietly bidding him goodbye. That had been the last time he looked at her as he watched her walk through her front door. She hadn't come to watch him leave the next day even though she'd known that his mom planned on leaving before Paddy came home from work. The shock of finding out that Brendan was staying behind had been enough to occupy his thoughts so he hadn't knocked on her door before leaving.

Walking into the front of the hospital was a shock to his senses. The smell of sickness slathered with an unnatural dose of antiseptic was offensive and reminded him of too many incidents of coming here for stitches and other medical care. His mother had lied to the doctors about his and Brendan's injuries, warning the boys on the way to the ER that they wouldn't just be taken away from their father if the truth was told; they would be taken away from her too.

Walking up to the front desk he realized that he didn't know if her last name was still Denton or not. Luckily the face behind the desk was a familiar one.

"Tommy fucking Conlon, how the hell are you, you sonofabitch?"

"Teddy? Teddy Quinton is that you, you dumb motherfucker?" The smile on Tommy's face is genuine as he smacks hands with the giant of a man who unfolds himself out of the impossibly small desk space.

"When the hell didja get back in the 'burgh?" Teddy laughs, coming around the desk and slapping Tommy on the back hard enough to make him wince.

"Been here a few months now, working down at what used to be Fitzys's place. Training and sparring, you know, same old shit. What's the word with you bro?"

"Well my wrestling days are over for sure. Both knee's been replaced, herniated discs in my back, yada, yada, yada, but you don't wanna hear that shit. So here I am doing bitch work. Pay's okay but I can't say I don't miss competition."

"True. You were a hell of a competitor for sure," Tommy laughs, the memories of his last wrestling match in high school still fresh in his mind. It had been against this mother fucker, a senior to his freshman, a giant wall of muscle to his slight build. Tommy's only advantage had been speed; he'd used it well and won against this Goliath.

"Well obviously not THAT good since your weenie little ass beat me," Teddy snarls but he's laughing too. "So what brings you in man? You ready to get some shit replaced too? I saw the whole Sparta thing. It was cool but I have to say I really enjoyed the beat down you put on Grimes."

"Oh yeah? The first one or the second one?" Tommy asks, wariness creeping into his voice. He is in no frame of mind to rehash this shit, even with someone as cool as Teddy "Rugnuts" Quinton.

"Yes," Teddy booms, drawing the attention of the majority of the waiting room.

"Yeah, so anyhow, I came here to check up on Penny. You remember her right? Penny Denton?"

"Do I ever. She's been a big customer of the good old La Vida ER for several years now. They bring her in again?"

"Yeah, she was passed out in a booth at Dale's, choking on her own puke. I found her there."

"Tommy," Teddy says, lowering his voice greatly and looking around the room before continuing, "I know she used to be something to you but that was a long time ago. My advice? Steer clear, she'd mucho damaged."

"I'll take that under consideration bro. For now I just wanna touch base, find out if she's even gonna make it. Can you get me back there?"

Teddy shakes his head slowly and claps Tommy on the back again. "Sure thing man. You're her cousin right?" Teddy winks dramatically to make sure Tommy gets the implication.

"Yeah, sure."

"Lemme call back there to the nurses desk then I'll buzz you in," Teddy says while typing slowly on the keyboard of his computer, "She's in room 107a. Best of luck to you man, maybe we can grab a beer sometime?"

"Sure thing Teddy, write down your number and I'll give ya a call sometime."

After scribbling down his info Teddy hands Tommy a scrap of paper and makes the call to the ER. Tommy holds his hand on the cold door knob, waiting for the familiar buzzing sound. Stepping into the ER area brings a new wave of sensory assault. Smells that he can't recognize and some that he, sadly, can are like a punch in the face as he looks for room 107a. Of course it would be the very last room which means he has to walk the hallway and see the some of the saddest examples of human suffering along the way.

Entering Penny's room the first thing he notices is the whiteness of her skin. She's not just pale; she looks like she's been bleached. The second thing that catches his eye is that her hands are strapped to the side rails of the bed. As he takes a seat a young nurse comes in with a chart in her hands, she doesn't immediately take notice of him so he clears his throat to get her attention.

"Oh shi… I mean crap! You scared me!" she laughs nervously, putting a hand to her chest to emphasize her shock.

"I'm sorry… Nora. I'm Tommy Conlon, Penny's cousin. I just got here and I'm wondering how she's doing."

The nurse, Nora, eyes him suspiciously; since Penny is a frequent flyer she must be familiar with her and know better.

"I just moved back to Pittsburgh. I know she's in here a lot but now that I'm back I'm going to try and make sure she gets off this shit."

Nora softens at his tone, he's really playing up the lost puppy eyes and she's buying it, eating it up actually.

"I sure hope you do Mr. Conlon. If Penny has nine lives she's used up eight of them." Nora flips through the chart in her hand and tsks at whatever she's reading. "Well she's tested positive for heroin, a given with her history, but this time there's also Rohypnol and methamphetamine. We've given her some activated charcoal and other medications to slow down her heart rate. So far so good… oh and we also gave her a laxative to help coax some of that poison out of her body. You might not want to stick around for that."

"Thanks for the heads up, Nora," he laughs as the nurse takes Penny's vitals and makes some notations in her chart. "I take it she's been combative in the past?" he asks, nodding towards the restraints.

"That's the understatement of the year. I'd tell you that it's the drugs that make her that way but it'd be a lie. She's just mean most of the time. Listen, I'll be down at the nurses' station. Hit the call button if you need _anything_. I don't think she'll be coherent for another hour or two but stay as long as you like… or as long as you can stand it," Nora throws him a suggestive look over her shoulder as she too-obviously sashays out the door. It's a typical response that he gets from females but it's never done a damned thing for him. And to be honest she's not as cute as she apparently thinks she is.

Tommy knows he won't last long in this small room. The whirring and beeping of machinery gets louder with every second, the smell more overpowering. He doesn't particularly want to be present when that laxative starts working either. He's sure Penny wouldn't be happy to find out he'd been in the room when she'd opened the rear gate. He stands up to leave and he hears a small groan from the bed. He turns to see Penny laying with her eyes open, looking right at him.

"Fuck you Satan," she moans, "You back to looking like Tommy again? That doesn't even hurt anymore…"

Her eyes close and he knows she's beyond comprehension again. He shakes his head and makes his way out into the hallway, pausing at the nurses' desk where Nora smiles at him like a shark.

"Say, would you put my number down as a contact for when she wakes up?"

Nora looks put out that his number is for Penny's chart and not for her own personal use but she takes it down anyway.

"Thanks doll," Tommy halfheartedly mutters as he heads back towards the front entrance. He waves at Teddy on his way out and heads to the curb to stretch his leg muscles. It's almost a ten mile run back to the gym but he decides that's a better place to be than his apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

Hell is yourself and the only redemption is when a person puts himself aside to feel deeply for another person. - Tennessee Williams

The punching back offers Tommy zero relief from the thoughts plaguing him. Something had never sat right with him about the conversation he'd had with Penny the night before he'd run with his Ma. What had she meant when she'd said no one knew what she was living with? At the time he'd chalked it up to her being a spoiled brat not knowing what real agony and trauma was. With the turn that her life had taken since there had to have been something more going on; you don't end up a junkie, dying in greasy spoon alone without something fucked up happening to you.

But shit, so much could have transpired with this girl after her left town. So much _did_ according to Teddy. _C'mon Tommy, you know what's really bothering you_, he thinks to himself as his fists pummel the ProBrand. _You failed this girl. All the times when she was the only one who was there for you and you left her in the dust. Just like Manny…_

"Arrrrhhhhhhhhh! FUCK!" Tommy shouts as he rains down abuse on the bag with his fists. He can see people in his peripheral turn and stare. Suddenly he stops and turns placing his gloves in an attack position in front of him. He bends his knees and starts to weave slowly side to side. "WHAT THE FUCK YOU ALL LOOKING AT?" he bellows, his gloved fists ready to strike the first mother fucker to open their mouth. Everyone immediately turns away, going back to whatever activity they'd been involved in before his outburst.

"Tommy," barks a familiar voice from behind him. He turns to see Colt steadying the punching bag and motioning with his head towards the office. Tommy drops his hands and nods, following the smaller man to the front of the building.

Inside the office the air is much cooler and Tommy sets about freeing his hands from the leather confines of the gloves instead of looking Colt in the eyes.

"Tommy," Colt starts but doesn't get a chance to finish.

"So is this where ya tell me that I'm fired? That ya can't have shit like that on the gym floor?"

"Tommy, c'mon man. Let's get real. I'm about money and you bring more money in here than anyone. You're the best advertisement for this place. You could beat the shit out of ten of those MMA wannabe's a day out there and I wouldn't say fuck all about it. But this is real bro. I'm worried about you."

"Whatchu worried about me for Colt? I got a handle on this shit; today's just been a rough day. I found out that someone I used to know is fucked up on smack. It ain't anyone I would have thought would ever get involved with that shit. So I'm taking it out on the bag. I just let it get the better of me and it won't happen again." Tommy is surprised that he reveals as much as he does to Colt. Even though the man is the closest to what Tommy could call a friend he'd never been one to sit around and just share what he was feeling. But Colt had given him a job and helped him get back on his feet and he owed him enough to ease his worry.

"That's what I'm talking about Tommy. You NEED to get this shit out and not bottle it up, man. The first time I saw you put the beat down on Grimes it was pure rage. And I'm pretty sure that shit had been building up for a long time. You need a way to vent on a regular basis because if you don't you're gonna end up killing somebody, maybe even yourself."

"I'm good. I'll be fine. Listen," he says as he stands to head to the showers, still avoiding looking his boss in the eye, "I'm real sorry I flipped my lid like that out there."

"Hey, hold up. I got something to tell you. I hate to add to your already shit day but your Pops came by here this morning looking for you. He looks bad Tommy, real bad. I ain't trying to get in your business but you might wanna look him up… soon."

Tommy doesn't say anything but instead heads out the door to the locker room. He passes through the busy gym and people scramble to get out of his way. Stopping at his locker, he grabs his bag and makes his way to the showers. He cleans up and changes, deciding to leave by the back door instead of making another trip across the gym floor. Any other time the way that the people scurried out of his path might have made him laugh but now it just made him feel like an asshole. What the fuck was up with this public display of emotions?

He walks home instead of running. He's through with sweating today and he knows his body well enough to know it's been pushed to its limits for now. The air is brisk but not cold and the sun is low on the horizon. The tangle of concrete and buildings blocks his view but he can feel the impending nightfall like the hottest blood coursing through his veins. He's always been a night owl, always felt caged when the sun went down and he was indoors. As he rounds the corner of the his block he can see the familiar outline of Paddy's rust colored Chevy sitting in front of his building. For a split second he thinks about turning back and heading the other direction. Anytime but now Pops…

_No more running away from shit_, he thinks and quickens his pace towards the front entrance of his building. He hears the squeak of the driver's side door and Paddy struggling to exit in time to catch him.

"Tommy!" Paddy calls out, his voice shaky, sounding out of breath. Could it be that this mother fucker is drunk again? Probably drunk and feeling sorry for himself, looking for forgiveness just like a beggar with his cup out. Turns out Tommy doesn't like Drunk Paddy any more than he likes Self-righteous Sober Paddy.

Tommy races up to the top of the steps past his father and unlocks the entry door. He turns and faces the monster from his childhood, motioning impatiently for the old man to get his ass up the steps and into the foyer. Paddy struggles with each stair, wheezing and holding onto the railing as he ascends, never taking his eyes off of his son. Some monster he is now.

Inside the lighted apartment Tommy gets a better look at him and he looks every bit as bad as Colt had implied. His cheeks are sunken; he's lost quite a bit of weight since Tommy last saw him in Atlantic City; his clothes hang on him like they might a scarecrow in a cornfield.

"What you want? Tommy cuts to the chase, no sympathy or compassion in his voice.

"How you been son?" Paddy asks as he takes his hat off and sits it in his lap.

"I been. Again, what do you want?"

"Well it's been close to a year since I spoke to you last. I was hoping after Sparta that things might have gotten better between you and me, Tommy. I gave you space and hoped that eventually we might be able to start talking again. So uh, you wanna go and grab a bite to eat or something?"

Paddy doesn't seem comfortable on Tommy's threadbare couch. He looks around the sparsely furnished room, his eyes darting here and there nervously. His bony fingers wrench his hat and he licks his dry lips repeatedly. The sight of him irritates Tommy to no end.

"No, I don't wanna go nowhere to get a bite to eat, I ain't got time Pops. I want you to spit out whatchu got to say to me and be on your merry fuckin' way," Tommy spits at him, his irritation obvious. The sarcastic way he mocks Paddy's words make him feel spitefully good. It's the same way Paddy had always mocked him as a boy when he'd asked to stop training and get something to eat.

_We ain't got time to get something to eat asshole_, his father had sneered. It hadn't been a matter of not having time. It had been a matter of Paddy Conlon had already had his dinner from a whiskey bottle and he was getting meaner by the second.

"It's not that simple or easy Tommy." Paddy's voice seems weaker than it had outside and Tommy notices that his hands shake constantly when he's not gripping his hat.

"Well make it that simple cause I really ain't in the mood for your shit."

"I just thought that after what happened that day in the hotel that..."

"That what? That because I held you and comforted you it was all better? That because Brendan popped my shoulder out of place like YOU used to and told me he loved me that it fixed everything between me him? The stones on you two mother fuckers for real. Brendan ain't got no reason not to love _me_, it wasn't me who shit on him and abandoned him! And as far as you, let's call it a moment of weakness. I felt bad for you cause you're old and you were drunk." Tommy paces the room like a caged animal trying to keep his temper in check. He has a boiling point and he knows he's close.

"You wanna know why I chose you train me, Pop? It wasn't just because you were the Devil I knew, it's because deep down inside I wanted you to try some of that old shit with me, you know, the shit you used to inflict on me when I was just a kid and too scared to fight back. I wanted you to raise your fuckin' hand to me, try to bloody my nose or pop my arm out of the socket. I wanted you to even raise your voice with me, just fuckin' once. Because when you did I was going to show you who the weak one was, I was gonna send YOU to the fucking ER with a laundry list of lies to tell the good doctors."

"Would it make you feel better to do it now Tommy? I'll take it, I deserve it, god knows I do. I'm ready to do whatever it takes to make things better between us."

"Don't be simple, Pops. I'd fuckin' kill you and you know it. Maybe there just ain't a way to make things right, maybe there ain't no magic words to say, no special hand wave that's gonna undo all the damage you did."

Paddy opens his mouth several times and closes it. He looks like a fuckin' guppy to Tommy, the sight of him bringing out more rage and ire in his son. Tommy sneers and goes in for the kill.

"When I woke up and found you raging around with that bottle in ya hand, all I felt for you was pity because you're just a pathetic old man raging at the hell of your own making. You don't deserve forgiveness just because you're too old to throw a punch anymore or because you found Jesus. You weren't there for me when I needed you, when it mattered. I don't fuckin' need you _now_."

Paddy stands and puts his hat back on, he moves to leave but Tommy speaks again.

"Wait, I got some things to ask you. It ain't about you and me and you don't have to answer but I'd appreciate it if you would."

Paddy sits again and looks at Tommy, his eyes unreadable, and simply nods.

"You remember the Denton's that lived next door to us?" Paddy nods again. "What happened to the girl, Penny?"

"Oh Tommy, why do ya wanna dredge this shit up? It's ancient history…"

Tommy bolts in front of his father and leans in so close that they're nose to nose, his voice is full of rage and his tone is so venomous that spit flies out of his mouth with each word.

"You got two choices, you can answer my questions or you can get the fuck outta my place. The way I see it you owe me, and if you can't answer some questions then why the fuck would I ever feel the need to forgive you?"

Paddy sighs and leans back into the worn couch cushions. He suddenly looks even older than he had moments before, his blue eyes watery and narrowed.

"Penny came out about six months after you left with your ma and told the principal at school that her mom's brother had been raping her since she was ten."

"Jeff Clarke?" Tommy asks, absolutely stunned. Jeff had only been five years older than him and Penny, he'd been someone who was around them both a lot as kids; he'd always been the kid that everyone looked up to, wanted to be like. Disbelief colors Tommy's mind and he hates that he immediately doubts Penny's story.

"Yeah. At first no one wanted to believe her, he always seemed like he was such a good kid. Even her own mother refused to believe it and they sent Penny away for a while. When she came home after about a year she seemed to be better and things went back to normal. Then…" Paddy stops and shakes his head and rubs his eyes.

"Then what?" Tommy prods.

"One night her parents came home from the movies and caught Jeff there, in the house. He'd brought some of his friends along and they'd all taken turns raping Penny for the better part of two hours. Eventually he broke down and admitted that he'd been doing it to her since she turned ten."

"Fuck," is all Tommy can think to say. His head is swimming with too many thoughts, too much emotion.

"Even worse, her parent's didn't file charges. Didn't want the scandal that would come along with it. The only reason I know all this is because Stan confided in me one night over a bottle of Jameson. He'd really thought that they were protecting her by keeping it in the family. S'far as I know, Jeff was sent out of state and I never saw hide nor hair of him again."

"You oughtta leave now."

Paddy doesn't argue, simply stands and walks to the door. "I'm sorry Tommy," he says in almost a whisper, "but I can see now that I'll never be sorry enough. I love you…"

The door closes softly and Tommy is left alone with his thoughts. The place is too silent; the solitude is only broken by the occasional police or ambulance siren. He cranks the AC up to the maximum and strips down to his boxer briefs. Lying down on the couch he does his best to think back to the months before he'd left with his mom, to try and see any signs of what Paddy had told him about Jeff and Penny. Try as he might he can't. He can only see things now as they are colored by this new, fucked up knowledge. But what she had said to him during her goodbye makes a lot more sense now.

Penny back then compared to Penny now is a night and day kind of comparison. Back then she was a little pudgy, baby fat he'd called it as he teased her. Her honey blonde hair had been down to her waist and slightly curly. She'd always worn it loose; he couldn't recall a single time he'd ever seen it in braids or a ponytail. She'd had a hell of a beautiful smile, one that she didn't grace many people with and a laugh that was contagious. Many times that laugh had been a balm to his soul. It was the kind of noise that started at her toes and rumbled its way up to her mouth. He could be raging his hardest, railing against his father from the safety of Collazo Park, eventually he'd say something dumb and that laugh would come bubbling out of her like a fountain. It hadn't mattered how pissed he was, that sound calmed him.

Tommy puts his fists hard into his eyes, guilt washing over him in a wave. How could he have been so blind to what she'd been going through all those years? Why hadn't she told him?

_You know why she didn't tell you, asshole, she was always too busy taking care of YOU, listening to YOU piss and moan about getting slapped around._

Tommy Conlon had no worse enemy than himself, especially at times like this. He sits up on the couch and waits for his eyesight to return to normal. Picking up the phone and digging through his gym bag at the same time he ends up dialing Teddy to see if he's still at the hospital.

"Yeah Teddy, it's Tommy. What time you getting off work?"


	4. Chapter 4

People find meaning and redemption in the most unusual human connections. - Khaled Hosseini

"Wow…" is the only word Teddy has been able to utter since Tommy spilled the truth about why Penny turned to drugs.

Tommy hadn't planned on telling Teddy everything when he called him to meet up at Mahoney's, he'd simply felt the need to defend his decision to come back to the hospital this morning and stay with Penny for a little while. Then once he got talking about it he found it was hard to stop, that he needed to share this horror with someone who remembered Penny as the good girl she used to be.

"You know that shit ass Jeff is back in Pittsburgh now, right? That probably explains why she's even more fucked up this time than usual."

"You're fuckin' kiddin' me," Tommy stammers into his mug. Everything that touched his lips tonight tasted sour and the beer was no exception. He sits the mug down heavily and pushes it away.

"Nah, I seen him bring his daughter in to the hospital one night. He remembered me, talked for a little while, shit, he even asked me if I had seen Penny around. Knowing what I do now, well that's pretty fucked up. I can't believe he never had any punishment, no kinda consequences for ruining that girl…"

"Well it's never too late to pay for your crimes," Tommy hisses, glaring across the bar at empty space. In his mind he's already beat that dirty fuckwad into a bleeding hunk of shit. And didn't he owe it to Penny? Didn't she deserve some kind of vengeance for having been abused and raped for so long? Maybe her parents really had been trying to protect her by sweeping the whole thing under the rug; but nothing could be said about some back alley vigilantism. How could any of it possibly be linked to Penny?

"I don't know what you're thinking about doing but it's not going to change the damage that's been done to her," Teddy says and then finishes his mug in one long drink. "All it's going to do is send you to jail. Is she worth it? I've seen her in action too, Tommy. She ain't the nice little peach she used ta be. She's a mean little hellcat with a hair trigger temper. I've seen her throw emesis pans full of puke at nurses; she grabbed a syringe from one night nurse and tried to stab her in the neck with it. She's changed and in the worst way."

"Wouldn't you have changed if you'd been treated the way she was. I'm no better than her parents," Tommy sighs, shaking his head, "I left her high and dry when I went to Washington. Penny was always there for me when Pops took his fists to me and ma or Brendan. She never asked me for shit but she was always there when I needed her. I left and I never called her, wrote her, nothing."

"Sounds to me like you had your own battles to fight. I don't think anyone could blame you for leaving or staying gone for as long as you did. You might not know this but we all knew what Paddy was like, what you and Brendan, even your ma, were going through. My dad worked with your pops down at the mill and I remember him coming home talking about that mean old drunk Conlon and how he almost lost a hand in the machine or almost hurt someone else because he was so fucked up he couldn't stand straight. I remember the bruises and the bloody noses. Everyone knew but not one of us stood up for you…"

"Wasn't your battle to fight buddy," is all Tommy can say as he stands to leave. He takes out his wallet to pay for the beer and Teddy holds up his hand.

"Nah bro, tonight's on me. It was good to get out of the house. I've been bored as hell since Kate left. All I do is work, come home, eat junk food and watch porn."

"Thanks for the TMI," Tommy chuckles and shoves his wallet back into his pocket. "I'll catch you at the hospital I'm sure. Imma head up there now; see if she's come around yet."

"You still got your old wresting head gear? You're probably gonna need it along with those killer reflexes, dude."

88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88 **88**88**88**88**88**

As Tommy approaches the ER nurses' station he's relieved to see that Nora isn't there. Instead a girl who looks like a young Kate Winslet is sitting behind the desk working on charting. Tommy clears his throat to get her attention but she doesn't look up.

"'Scuse me, I'm here to see Penny in 107a, I'm her cousin Tommy…"

The nurse looks up and flashes a genuine smile at Tommy, once that looks sincerely friendly and not carnivorous in the slightest. It's a good smile and Tommy can't help but to smile back.

"Oh yeah, Nora told me about you Mr. Conlon. I'm Heather and I'll be taking care of her tonight. She's been awake since about three this afternoon according to the end of shift report I received. She's not in a great mood but she's also not combative. I was thinking about taking her restraints off here in a little bit. Do you think you'd be comfortable with that?" The accent is decidedly southern, the twang possibly Tennessee or Kentucky. It's absolutely fucking adorable.

Appreciating her concern and the way she sounds he smiles again, "I think that would be fine. I know she's been a terror before but it's been a while since we've seen each other and I hope ta be a good influence on her."

The silence is deafening and then a light goes off down at the opposite end of the hall from Penny's room.

"I'll need to go see about that down there then I'll be in to take her wrist restraints off."

"Thanks Heather," Tommy mutters as he turns to go.

"No problem at all…"

The room is quiet as he enters. Penny seems to be sleeping as he takes a seat near the foot of the bed. He watches the steady rise and fall of her chest as she dozes and soon it the room starts to dim as he slips into sleep.

Tommy knows he's drifted off but seems to be caught somewhere between completely asleep and awake. He panics in his mind, waiting for the usual nightmare involving Manny and his family but it doesn't come. Instead he sees himself as a teen in his old kitchen. His mom is at the sink doing dishes and Brendan is heading out the front door with Tess.

"Mom, why do you stay?" She doesn't answer him but instead keeps slowly washing and rinsing a never-ending stream of dirty dishes. "Mom," he says more insistently, "why do you stay?" Still nothing.

"MOM!" his younger self screams and grabs him mother by the arm, spinning her around. But it isn't his mother, it's his father and he's washing pictures of Tommy and Brendan. All the pictures are of them in various states of abuse; blackened eyes, bruised faces, arms in casts, on crutches. "I'm sorry Tommy," Paddy cries but it's his ma's voice that comes out of the old man's face. Then he's falling through the floor…

Tommy wakes up just as his ass hits the cold tile of the hospital room very hard. He struggles to get to his knees, relying on the chair to pull himself up. As he stands he hears that all too familiar giggle behind him and he knows she's awake.

"Tommy Conlon, what the hell you doin' in my hospital room?"

The laugh may be the same but the smile is a mere ghost of what it used to me. It doesn't come anywhere near her eyes. She looks like a shade of her former self. Like life had wrung out what had been the essential her and left a poor substitute in her place.

"Penny…" is all he can say as he sits on the edge of her bed and takes her right hand out of the padded restraint to hold it.

"Tommy," she counters, "seriously, what are you doing here?"

"I'm the one who found you more than half dead in Dales diner."

Shame colors her face and she almost seems like a living thing again as she turns her gaze away from him. "Sorry about that. I'm guessing I'd probably puked and shit all over myself too."

"There was some throw up. Penny, what are we going to do? You can't do this to yourself anymore," Tommy whispers as he absentmindedly runs his hand over hers. Her skin is clammy and he can see a sheen of sweat popping out on her forehead. She draws her legs up to her chest, obviously in pain.

"Fuuuuuuuucckkk," she moans, writhing under the sheets, "It hurts Tommy. I'm sick; I need to get out of here so I can feel better. I can't stand this!"

"Who was the guy you were with? The one who dumped you at the diner?"

"What? How the fuck should I know? Some guy who had what I needed so we did some trade. Get the nurse in here!"

"Trade?"

"Yeah I sucked his dick for some skag, what the FUCK is it to you?" First she smiles at him in a lewd and leering way and then a second later she screams as another wave of cramps seems to hit. She's crying now, the tears sliding down her face in torrents, her lids squeezed shut tightly.

Tommy looks down at the arm he's holding and it's black and blue, covered in scabs and sores. There is a lot of scarring in the places that must have been her favorite spots to shoot up. How could he not feel responsible for this? He knew the anger coming from her was because she was in withdrawal but he also felt like he deserved whatever she dished out. The guilt that he's feeling is unbearable.

"NURRRRRRRSSSSE!" she screams and jerks her arm away from Tommy, reaching with her free hand for the call button. But Heather is already at the door and she has a needle in her hand. Tommy grabs Penny's flailing arm and forces her wrist back into the restraint.

"Fuck you Tommy! Where were you when I needed you? When it could have mattered? YOU'RE TOO LATE! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

Her words, all too familiar to him, are like a punch in the gut. He staggers back from the bedside and into the chair, his hands fly to his face and he hides his eyes from the scene in front of him. He hears Penny cursing like a possessed person, spitting at Heather as she injects whatever she brought with her into the IV and then whimpering as the medicine takes effect. Tommy doesn't dare look until he hears her breathing slow and quiet. When he glances up Heather is still in the room charting. Tommy stares at his own shaking hands and does his best to will them to steady.

In all the years since he'd been on his own he'd fought in a war, saw some good men and the best man he ever knew die in a pointless war. He'd faced down literal monsters in the ring and in his head and none of those things had jarred him the way Penny just had.

"I wouldn't take it personally, Mr. Conlon, it's the junkie talking. They say and do things that you wouldn't believe when they're in pain. And she is in incredible pain." Heather speaks without missing a beat while jotting down notes in Penny's chart.

"Please, call me Tommy. I ain't old enough to be called Mister and don't plan on being civilized enough to earn that title anytime soon."

Heather smiles and snaps the chart shut. "Well, Tommy, I'm due to have a break here in ohhh…" she says looking at her watch, "about thirty minutes ago. Would you like to join me down in the cafeteria for a cup of coffee that's sure to either sterilize us or give us mutant superpowers?"

Without even thinking he nods, still feeling shell shocked and hurt. He's going to need the caffeine if he's planning on staying here for any length of time.

"Swell," she laughs, clipping the pen back onto her nametag, "I'll go let Sandy know and then I'll meet you at the elevator."

Heather turns on her heels and pads silently out of the room. Tommy looks at Penny; she's more peaceful now but there is still the look of torment on her face. He knows that look; he saw it many times on Paddy's face when the Jameson and his paycheck was gone and he was reduced to drinking mouthwash or his ma's cooking sherry. It was the look of someone suffocating or drowning in slow motion.

Tommy stands and shoves his hands into his pockets, looking at the wraith on the bed one more time before heading out the door. _Hip deep in rattlesnakes_, his ma used to say when she felt helpless. That's how he was feeling now.

Just as she'd said, Heather was waiting at the Elevator to take them down to the basement. It had always rattled Tommy that the cafeteria was so close to the morgue. You didn't have to pass it to get to the food line but you could see the little brown and white sign hanging from the ceiling to the right as you entered the cafeteria.

They ride the elevator in silence and as the doors slide open, Tommy gestures for Heather to exit first. She smiles and leads the way down the dimly lit corridor to the smell of coffee and microwaved food. This time of night only the vending machines were in service and he knew the coffee was going to be a mutated mess of something that might actually do what the nurse had promised. Digging in his pockets for change he sees Heather head to a small door to the side and knock three times rapidly.

"Hey papi!" she sings, reaching her hand out and taking a paper cup from someone Tommy can't see. "Could you give me one more? I brought a friend and he neeeeeeds your special brew, my man."

A few seconds later another cup is handed out the door to Heather and she leans in to kiss whoever is back there. She turns towards Tommy and winks, "You don't want that shit," she nods towards the machine behind him. "It's dog vomit. Now this," she says waving the cup under his nose before handing it to him, "is Papi's Café Cubano and it will put some hair on your chest fo sho."

"Thanks," he mutters as he sniffs deeply. The aroma was partly bitter, almost a chocolate smell but it made his mouth water. He realizes he hasn't eaten anything since early that morning and right on cue his stomach grumbles loudly. Heather sets her coffee on a small round table and heads back to the door. She doesn't even have to knock, the door opens and a plate with some sort of sandwich on it is passed out to her. She leans in again and kisses the giver and thanks him in that slow southern drawl.

Passing by the microwave she grabs a plastic knife and a handful of napkins. "And this, my hungry friend, is also called a Cubano, it's the Latin version of a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. This undeniably mouthwatering concoction is comprised of ham, roasted pork, Swiss cheese, pickles, mustard and some lovely Cuban bread."

"Well if I wasn't starving before, that description was enough ta sell me for sure. I think you missed your true calling as a Cuban sandwich spokeswoman," Tommy jokes as she cuts the sandwich in two and passes him the half on the plate.

"Oh make no mistake, since I moved here to Pittsburgh I have become a voracious foodie. Where I come from in East Tennessee there is a shortage of anything that isn't fried in lard or battered and THEN fried in lard. I've tasted different kinds of food from all over the world right here in our town. Love it!"

Heather takes a huge bite out of her sandwich and savors it, her eyes rolling back in her head. "I must warn you that I'm so not above taking that back from you if you don't put your germs on it immediately."

Her wit draws a laugh out of Tommy, the sound foreign and rusty. When had been the last time he really laughed? Probably before Manny died, Manny was always good for making him bust a gut.

Tommy pushes the thought of his fallen brother out of his head and bites into the sandwich. Mother of baby Jesus, she wasn't kidding, this shit was heaven.

"See? I told ya!"

They eat in a comfortable silence, each enjoying their half and sipping on the strong Cuban brew. It's as stout as it smells but Tommy finds he likes it much more than regular joe. As they finish, Heather grabs the mass of napkins and the plate, takes them to the can and chucks them in. He stands to thank her before leaving and she motions for him to sit.

"I have 22 more minutes of unpaid break time and they won't thank me for clocking back in early. Please sit and keep me company. I hate being this close to the morgue alone. And I wanted to talk to you about your girlfriend."

Tommy opens his mouth to protest but Heather cuts him off, "Well she might not be your girlfriend but you and I both know damn well she ain't your cousin."

"She's a childhood friend, I can't turn my back on her."

"I'm glad. She really doesn't have anyone else. Both of her parents are listed as deceased. I've had her several times before as a patient and not once has anyone been in to see her or to pick her up when she eventually signs herself out AMA. You don't know how many times I've tried to talk that girl into rehab, she's got one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. She won't survive another round with this drug. I'm not a doctor but let me tell you, as a nurse, I see more than a doctor does, spend more time with these patients of mine than they ever will and I know when someone is knocking on the door to the afterlife."

Tommy is stunned by her little speech, he leans back in his chair and takes another sip of the coffee.

"If you care anything about her, you'll listen to what I have to say with an open mind."


	5. Chapter 5

_Any story about revenge is ultimately a story about forgiveness, redemption, or the futility of revenge. - Nick Wechsler_

"I'm listening," Tommy sighs as he leans further back into the hard plastic cafeteria chair. He is wearier in this moment that he's ever been. Deep down inside he can't see any real way he can save Penny; she seems hell bent on destruction and who wouldn't be in her situation?

"Penny's bound for some serious jail time. This is the third time she's managed to seriously injure one of the medical personnel assigned to her. She basically put one of the paramedics who brought her in's eye out; the poor guy was rushed into emergency surgery as soon as they pulled into the ER."

"Shit…"

"Yeah, hence the heavy restraints even when she was out cold. Now," she says leaning forward across the small table towards Tommy, "I don't know Penny off the drugs but I sure know her on them and she's dangerous. Sending her to jail isn't going to help her problem, as I see it, it'll probably only make it worse. Around the good old Pittsburgh penal scene you have drugs available to you on the inside just like you do on the street but I promise you that she'll have to do a lot worse than give someone a blow job to get heroin in there. We get drug overdoses from County Lock up sent to us all the time. It's bad, bad, bad what's being passed around in there, much worse than what you score from the average dealer on the block. She'll end up dead, Tommy."

"What can I do?"

"There is a way that we can get around her having to serve time. There's a rehab on the south side of Pittsburgh, Rivers Bend is the name of it and they're one of the best facilities in the country. They have a ninety-seven percent success rate for people who complete the program."

"Where do I sign her up?" Tommy asks, all ears to the proposed plan.

"It's not that simple," Heather says, holding her hands up, "First off, for a one hundred-twenty day program the cost is seven grand and that's a discounted rate they'll give if you can prove financial hardship on her part; I don't see that being a problem. Second, you'd need to petition the judge and also provide proof of payment into the program there. If you do all that, he'll make it court ordered and she won't have a choice but to go. Judges would rather rehabilitate someone on someone else's dime than to see the state have to support another junkie in the jails." Heather stares at Tommy as she finishes the last of her Cuban java, waiting for his response to his

"She'll fuckin' hate me forever." Tommy says lowly, his voice sounding more like a child than a grown man.

"At least she'll be alive to decide whether she can forgive you for basically saving her life or not. Right now that girl hates only herself; she doesn't have the energy to do anything except despise what she's become and to find a way to get high." Heather's voice is faraway, her eyes looking somewhere beyond the olive green walls of the hospital food court.

"How do you know so much about this, Heather?" Tommy leans forward in his seat now, catching her eyes in an intense stare as she comes back from wherever her mind had wandered.

"It doesn't matter," she says dismissively, picking pieces of Styrofoam off of the lip of her empty coffee cup. "So here's the rest of the deal, I have about fifteen hundred saved up and it's burning a hole in my pocket. I'm ready to donate to the Penny-Gets-Well fund."

"Why would you do that?" It comes out a lot harsher than Tommy means for it to but he's incredulous that a total stranger would hand over that much money to help someone so obviously fucked up.

"Because Tommy," Heather whispers and looks into his eyes with total sincerity, "everybody deserves a second chance. Don't you think so?"

"I'll get the money, you keep your savings. I might need your help getting the rest of that shit done. I get nervous around judges and the police; I might say something wrong and fuck everything up. Do ya… do ya think you might be able to help me take care of all that?" Tommy's voice is shy, he's not used to asking anyone for anything and here he is asking a stranger for something this major. "I know you don't know me and it's a lot to ask for…"

"I will," Heather stops him mid-sentence, saving him the embarrassment of babbling on, "but how are you going to come up with all that cash by yourself?"

"You really don't know who I am, do you? I know that sounds crazy conceited but my life for the past year has been a three ring circus."

"I know you seem like a really good guy who's going far out of his way to help a girl he used to know. You're a rare sort and that makes me want to help you. So to answer your question, other than your name and the things I've gathered from the past 28 minutes, I don't know who you are." Heather's the one who seems shy now, looking down at her hands instead of into Tommy's intense gaze.

"Well, this might come as a shock to you but my brother is a millionaire and he owes me."

88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88 **88**88**88**88**88**

Tommy looks at his phone; the green glow of the digital screen sends an eerie glow through the darkened living room of his apartment. Three times he's dialed all but the last digit of Brendan's number and three times he's snapped his cell phone shut. How the hell is he going to begin this conversation? It's six thirty in the morning and he's had no sleep since leaving Penny and Heather at the hospital. He and the nurse had shored up the rest of the plan to get Penny into rehab and had exchanged numbers. He'd agreed with Heather to keep everything on the down low, if it came out that she had shared so much info about Penny while knowing he wasn't next of kin she would most definitely lose her job.

It eats him up to know that he's going to have to ask Brendan for the money, even though it's been offered to him already. It pisses him off that he's asking for a crazy amount of money to help out a drug addict even though he hasn't sent more than a few hundred bucks at a time to Pilar and the kids. Seven grand could go a long way to help the widow of his best friend and the kids he swore he'd take care of.

Tommy raises the phone as if to throw it across the room out of frustration but thinks better of it. He isn't due for another upgrade for seven months and he doesn't want to waste any valuable resources having to buy a new one.

Once again Tommy pecks the number into the keypad of the phone, his fingers bumbling, too large and too shaky to get it right the first time. Swallowing an exaggerated groan he closes the phone and starts all over again. If he calls now he'll catch Brendan before he goes on his morning run. Money hasn't changed his brother's workout regimen.

The phone issues only a half ring before Brendan answers. "'Lo?"

Tommy finds any words he might have said stuck in his throat. His brother says hello again and he can hear Brendan pull the phone away from his face, probably to check the caller ID. "Tommy? Is that you?"

"Yeah, yeah it's me Brendan…"

"Is everything okay?" Brendan's voice is worried now and Tommy feels like an asshole. Why shouldn't he since his own brother thinks the only reason he would call him is if something is wrong. But isn't the something wrong?

"Can we talk sometime today? Meet somewhere here in the 'burgh? I hate to ask ya to drive all the way here but I still ain't got a car…"

"Sure Tommy, sure thing. I can head that way now, be there sometime around 10:30. Where do you wanna meet?"

"Dale's sound ok witchu?"

"Dale's it is. I'll call when I'm about 30 minutes out, okay?"

"Sure thing… and, uh, ya know, thanks. I know it's short notice and all…"

"No, no, it's nothing. Should I come alone?"

"Yeah, it's uh, it's something I wouldn't want Tess or the girls to hafta hear about, Bren," Tommy's voice drops as if he's afraid someone in a neighboring apartment might hear.

"You got me worried, Tommy…"

"Just come, Brendan… please." His voice breaks as he makes himself more vulnerable to his big brother than he ever imagined he would again. The worry in Brendan's voice breaks down part of the solid wall he's spent so many years building up.

"I'm on my way now, Tommy, I'm on my way."

Tommy snaps the phone shut and tosses it on the worn coffee table in front of him. He pushes back into the couch cushions and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. These feelings are overwhelming, he doesn't like that so many things are coming to the forefront and it seems he has no control of them. He's usually a real cool customer, able to ice over anything even resembling something real coming from his heart.

Tommy learned long ago that showing people the tender side of you is dangerous; others will trample that part of you until it lies bleeding on the concrete. He can't afford to be that emotional little kid but sometimes that's all he feels like; a small boy trapped inside the body of a raging bull. He takes that heat out on people in the ring, on the punching bag, on his own body and on anyone who has shown him any sort of concern for the most part.

His mind wanders back to relive the night he'd spent with Penny in the back seat of his Ma's car; the awkward goodbye is over and he's watched her go back home. He walks into the front door of his own house. Mercifully Paddy is passed out in his Barcalounger, the empty bottle of whiskey fallen to the floor out of his drunken grasp. His mom is in the dining room reading her Bible; she squints painfully at the small type of the pages, a shiner marrs her left eye. Even while wearing this badge of abuse she finds it in her to smile at him and wink knowingly; the plan is set and tomorrow the two of them and his brother will finally be free of Paddy Conlon and his angry fists.

Heading up as silently as possible on the wooden steps he sidesteps the trophies strewn about his side of the room and lies down on his bed facing Brendan's. They're too old to be sharing a room especially since there's an empty space in the basement that would serve perfectly as a third bedroom, but neither one of them has ever mentioned it to the other. There is safety in numbers and Paddy is less likely to come at them when they're together. The old man might be a mean drunk but he ain't stupid enough to think that he could fight the two of them at once.

Tommy smiles at the thought that soon he and Brendan might know what it's like to come home to peace and quiet instead of world war three. What would it be like to feel safe enough to have his own room and not have to worry about a raging drunk coming in and smacking the shit out of him because he left a fork on the counter? How wonderful would it be to not have to see ma getting dragged across the room by her hair while his father punched her face with his free hand? And no more sounds of the things that Paddy did to her when he came home drunk and took her into their bedroom. The awful sound of his beautiful mother begging him to please stop, telling him that it hurt and then hearing the sound of an open handed slap reducing her to tears.

None of those sounds echo through the house tonight as Tommy lies on his bed, listening for Brendan to come home from his last date with Tess. He wants to spend some time talking with Brendan about all the things that will be different once they put some miles between themselves and their father. He dozes off but wakes up as he hears the bedroom door open and close.

"Brendan?" he whispers, terrified that it's Paddy who's made his way upstairs instead of his brother.

"Yeah, Tommy, it's me."

Tommy breathes a deep sigh of relief and sits up on the bed as Brendan turns on the lamp. Tommy expects to see the same guarded joy that's been on his face all day but instead it looks like the weight of the world is on his brothers shoulders. The last date with Tess must have gone pretty bad. He wonders if he should even tell him about finally doing the deed with Penny.

"She knew it was coming Bren," Tommy offers first, hoping to prod Brendan into getting it off his chest so they can talk about the future.

"Tommy," Brendan sighs, rubbing his face and leaning his elbows onto his knees. "I'm not going with you and Ma, I can't."

It's as if a vat of ice water has been thrown over Tommy as he struggles to comprehend what his big brother just said to him. How could he really mean it? This ain't something anyone should joke about.

"Whatchu mean you can't come with us?"

"I love Tess, I want to marry her someday, and I just can't up and leave her. I'm almost eighteen and I'll be able to move out on my own as soon as I am. I don't want to leave Pittsburgh if she can't come with me and her pops already told her no."

"You're fuckin' serious? What about me? What about Ma? Don't we matter, Brendan? Don't we count for something?"

"As soon as Tess and I get married we'll come and find you guys, I swear it! Tommy, please don't cry…" Brendan moves from his own bed to beside Tommy on the opposing bunk. He tries to put an consoling arm around the younger boy but Tommy shoves them away forcefully.

"Fuck you Brendan," Tommy swears as he swipes angrily at the tears than fall faster than he can remove them, "What's ma going to do when she finds out that your piece of ass is more important to you than the woman who brought you into the world?"

"I already told ma, Tommy," Brendan answers, looking at his feet, "She told me that she understands and that she's happy for me and Tess. I wish you could understand too."

"Understand? Yeah I wish I could but I sure as fuck don't," Tommy sneers at his brother, the look ugly and suggestive of what he's about to say, "I can't imagine that she's that special between her legs, bro. You know every woman's got one of them things."

"How would you know anything about what's between a woman's legs, Tommy?" Brendan's pissed now that he's dared to talk about Tess like this.

"I know all about it, I laid Penny in the backseat of Ma's car just tonight. You don't see me boo-hooin' about how I love her and I just can't leave her. Bullshit!" Tommy stands and starts pacing the small square between the two beds.

"Aw, Tommy, that ain't love. And I don't fuck Tess, that's not how it is when you're in love with someone. Maybe one day you'll see that."

"You know what I see? That you're just like Pops, only you use bullshit words and you break promises to make your wounds on the people you're supposed to love."

"Tommy, don't say that."

"Fuck you. I'll never forgive you Brendan, never."

And he never really had. In all the years since it had been about how he could hurt Brendan and Pops the most to make himself feel better. The only problem was he never really felt better. Anger is heavy luggage that gathers weight as the years go by. By the time his ma had passed he was so pissed at Brendan that it was a sick sort of sweet to know that his own brother had no idea their mother was no longer on this earth. His anger with his own brother surpassed that towards Paddy. The old man was of no consequence anymore, it was all about how his own brother had turned his back on him when he'd needed him the most. He laid in bed many a night while in the Marines and smiled to himself, thinking that Brendan must be sick with worry. Surely by now he and Tess were married and probably popping out some pups of their own. Surely his brother had tried to find them so he could keep his promise. In Tommy's mind it served him right to worry and not know. His plan all along was to never go home to the states. There was always going to be a war that needed to be fought and he planned to be the mother fucker who signed up for every single one until there wasn't enough left of him to shoot at.

But that night on the beach in Atlantic City it had become crystal clear that Brendan hadn't been crippled with being in the dark all those years like he'd imagined. Brendan hadn't spent all those nights sick with worry about him and their Ma; no, he'd gotten married, went to college, he'd become a school teacher and a father. He'd made a life for himself and had had a family of his own. It really fuckin' stung to know that they'd been so expendable to Brendan.

But what had all the rage and hate been for? Because Brendan had made a good decision for himself? That his big brother was so much less broken than he was even though they had suffered the same abuse from the same man? What about Ma? She'd never blamed Brendan for staying behind, not even once. What had he REALLY been mad about all this time? That he'd been the one who'd denied Brendan the chance to watch their mother wither and die? He'd shouldered that all on his own, Brendan hadn't had a choice. So who was the real bastard here?

Tommy's brain is starting to feel like oatmeal and he decides to try and get a couple hours sleep before Brendan gets to town. He stands up to head to the bedroom and pauses to turn the AC down to 65 degrees. He slips his white tank over his head and tosses it into the corner. Turning his phone volume all the way up so that he doesn't miss his brother's call, he slides onto the bed on his stomach. The sheets are cold and soothing and it doesn't take long for him to slip into a dreaming slumber.

He's in the apartment in Washington, sitting at the two seat kitchen table. His mom is sitting across from him, her usual mug of hot tea grasped in her hands. She's smiling at him, her good smile, the one she had before the cancer took over.

"Tommy, baby, who are you?" She says, her smile never faltering.

"Don't you mean _how_ am I, Ma?"

"No son, I mean who are you? I don't know you anymore."

"You know me…"

"You look like my Tommy but you don't act like my son…" Her smile is faltering now, she searches his face as if looking for some part of it that might be familiar.

"Ma…"

"Listen Tommy 'cause we don't have long. Do you know why Brendan beat you, how he won even though you're so much stronger than him?"

Tommy shakes his head, ashamed that somehow even from the afterlife his mom knows about his defeat.

"Baby he beat you because he had something worth fighting _for_. You only had all these imaginary demons you were fighting _against_…" She stares at him hard, as if her glare will make him understand what she's just thrown at him.

From somewhere in the shadows his father's voice drifts to his ears, it's the mantra he repeated over and over to Tommy during training, especially when Tommy knew he was getting ready for a bout against a larger opponent like Teddy Quinton.

_It's not the size of the dog in the fight; it's the size of the fight in the dog._

Tommy wakes but doesn't move from the position he holds in the bed. His mother's words echo in his ear. He's on the verge of something big, an epiphany sits in the shadows of his mind but the more awake he becomes the fuzzier the imagined breakthrough feels. He doesn't feel like he's been asleep for more than a few minutes but the phone ringing lets him know it's been longer than that.

He reaches over and answers without looking at the caller ID window.

"Yeah, I'll be at Dale's in about half an hour Bren, see you there."


	6. Chapter 6

_All good is hard. All evil is easy. Dying, losing, cheating, and mediocrity is easy. Stay away from easy. - Scott Alexander_

"Tommy? It's Pilar…" the womans familiar voice sobs into the phone.

"Pilar? What's wrong? What's happened? Is it the kids? What's…"

"Tommy, thank you," she's weeps so hard that the words come out in bursts, "I'll never be able to repay you, thank you, thank you…"

"Pilar, sweetie, I don't understand… slow down and breathe…"

"The money came today, just in time Tommy, the bank was ready to foreclose and I didn't know what I was going to do. I can't believe you did this for me, for the kids, I don't know how…"

"I'm still confused… what money?"

"Tommy, a certified cashier's check came UPS today for five hundred thousand dollars, it was addressed from you. Are you telling me you didn't send it?"

Tommy can't think of anything to say. He'd had no idea that Brendan even knew about Pilar but it makes sense that he would, her story was all over the news when they were fighting at Sparta. Tommy rests his head back onto the pillow and sighs deeply. He doesn't need to confuse the situation so he just ices over the truth a little.

"Pilar, honey, don't worry about it. I'm sorry I didn't give you a heads up. And I'm not happy that you're just now telling me that the house was in foreclosure."

"You've had enough to worry about for yourself," she whispers, her voice calmer now.

"I made a promise to Manny, I will always be there for you and the kids, ya hear me? Always." Tommy's voice is filled with love and vehemence; he means what he's telling her with every part of his being.

"I know you will, Tommy. I know. Listen, I just had to call and thank you, I don't know how you did it but you made a miracle happen today. Oh, hold on, Libby wants to talk to you…"

"Unca Tommy!" the little girl squeals into the phone, her voice soft and high pitched. "When you gonna come and see us?"

"Soon baby, real soon. Uncle Tommy misses you guys."

"Tommy," Pilar is back now and she sounds near tears again, "I hate to run but I need to get to the bank before some horrible catastrophe destroys this check. You know my luck…"

"Yeah, P., go. We'll talk soon, okay?"

He hangs up the phone, tossing it to the side and finally gets a look at the clock. Brendan should be nearing town by now so Tommy gets up to get dressed for the run to Dale's, then changes his mind. He picks up his cell phone from off the bed beside him and dials Brendan's number.

"Yeah Bren, why don't ya meet me here at my apartment instead of Dale's."

After assuring his brother once again that he's okay he hangs up and looks around the place a bit, picking up dirty t-shirts and underwear then stuffing them into the mostly unused hamper. He did his laundry at Colt's with the gym towels a couple times a week so they usually lay where he tossed them until then. Grabbing a clean sheet from the hall closet he spreads it over the well-worn couch to make the living room look less pathetic.

Since he'd lived in that miserable unheated efficiency with his mother in Washington, it had never much mattered to him what his place looked like. In the Marines he'd always lived in the barracks. After he went AWOL he'd lived on the streets for a time until he'd bunked at Paddy's during training. Then it had been off to Pendleton where his cell had been big enough to stand up and turn around in. Nine months of that might have been madness inducing but Tommy has always been able to retreat inside of his own mind and block out the real world; it's something he perfected as a child when he couldn't take the sound of his father beating on his mother or brother anymore. He never did it when it was his turn to be on the receiving end of those fists, though. He'd always wanted to remember every punch, slap and kick because his plan was to repay Paddy someday for each and every one.

Taking a minute to wash and rinse the few dishes in the sink, he also swipes at the counters and then goes as far as to borrow a broom for his up until now unknown next door neighbor. The elderly woman had looked a little frightened of him as she passed it through the still chained doorway; no doubt with the way the apartments were set up she'd heard his nightmares regularly. The doorway remains chained when he returns it and he does his best to smile at her as he thanks her.

Before today Tommy would never have wanted his brother to know where he lived let alone have invited him there. Now he finds that he feels ashamed that he lives like a bum; that he's never taken any pride in the place or tried to make it look like a home. Even his Ma had gone to thrift shops and church sales to find pictures and knickknacks for the little place they'd shared. But those things hadn't made the place a home, she had.

Opening the blackout curtains for the first time since he'd hung them he lets sunshine into the living room as he heads to make his bed. Maybe someday Tess and the kids can visit with Brendan; maybe it's time he got to really know his little nieces. Silently he thanks whatever powers that be that they'd been sleeping when he and their father had traded blows. There is still time for him to be the uncle that they deserve. He feels horrible that he's been more of an uncle to Pilar and Manny's kids than his own flesh and blood.

Light rapping on the front door grabs Tommy's attention and he runs a hand over his face, feeling anxious like he's a dumb kid again. _For fucks sake Tommy, it's just your brother. _Jogging to the door he grabs the handle and opens to see his big brother ready to knock again, fist upraised and in position. Brendan looks every bit as anxious as Tommy feels.

"Tommy," Brendan sighs with relief as he takes inventory of his little brother. Tommy doesn't know what his brother had been expecting to find when he got here but he seems relieved as he looks at him from the other side of the doorframe.

"Come on in, Bren…" Tommy says, turning sideways to allow him room to enter. Brendan nods and walks through the doorway. Tommy can tell that he's trying not to be obvious about looking around.

"It ain't much but I guess you know, with it just being me here it don't hafta be." Tommy hates the sound of apology in his voice. It ain't like Brendan's so much better than he is now that he has all that money but Tommy's always struggled with feeling inferior.

"It's good Tommy; at least you don't have to worry about knocking little delicate figurines off of pointless decorative tables like I do. Tess has lost her mind with the decorating bullshit. But I can't say much, she lived with me in some pretty slummy places and never complained so now I put up with her fascination with buying dust collectors."

The brother's chuckle together as Brendan heads to the couch to sit. Tommy grabs the lone kitchen table chair and sits it across from the couch on the other side of the coffee table. He drops into it heavily; his heart feels like it weighs more than the rest of him. He doesn't even know where to start or what conversation to start with. His hands go to his face and he tries to rub away the tightness, he feels as if he might cry any second and that's just not going to be acceptable, ever.

"Tommy, bro, seriously… What's going on?" Brendan's voice is tight with concern, Tommy looks at him and sighs.

"Thanks for what you did for Pilar. You didn't have to but you did and you saved her from losing her house. I know you don't know her or the kids but Manny meant a lot to me and I promised him that I would take care of her. I promised him that while he bled out in my arms."

Tommy can't help it; he has to glaze over the emotions that he can feel rising to the surface. Thinking about watching Manny losing all that blood while he held him, making that promise to his best friend because he knew that he was losing him and wanted to give him comfort any way he knew how was all he could do. The emotions are still too raw and too strong so he shuts that part of him down and goes on autopilot.

"Don't do that, Tommy. I can see you, what you're doing. Maybe it's time you let yourself feel those things. Pushing them to the back of your mind doesn't help you heal; it only hurts you more in the long run."

How right Brendan is. All Tommy has ever done was to push those strong emotions into a tiny space where they breed and grow into mental monsters. The only time he lets them out to play is in the gym or in the ring against an opponent. Feeling them, _really feeling_ them is a proposal that scares him more than anything in this world.

"And I have to tell you, I don't know what you're talking about Tommy. I didn't send Pilar anything. I wanted to but I was worried that if I did it without talking to you first it might upset you. It's something I was actually gonna bring up today."

Tommy's heart stops for a second, the blood flowing out of his face and into the empty cavity in his chest where his heart would be if he was a normal man. If Brendan didn't then who did?

"If she needs more, for anything… well you know I'll send it to her. But what can I do for you Tommy? What do you need?" Brendan is pleading as if he can feel Tommy slipping back into his anger, He is, but he's not angry at Brendan anymore. He knows now _exactly_ who sent Pilar the money and if that son of a cock sucker thinks he can buy forgiveness then he's farther gone that Tommy had ever believed.

Tommy shakes his head to clear his thoughts. There's no need to drag Brendan into the war between him and Pops. Brendan made his peace with Paddy Conlon after Sparta and he won't ask his brother to choose sides. Besides, there are more important, pressing matters that he needs to talk to his brother about.

"Brendan, do you remember Penny Denton?"

"Penny from next door? Yeah, yeah I remember her. Sweet girl… always hanging around mooning over you."

"Well, let me ask you this then. Do you know what happened to her after I left? Did Pops ever tell you any of it?"

"No, I don't remember even seeing her again after you left now that I think about it," Brendan says, his brows furrowing. "Whatever did become of her?"

Tommy leans his elbows onto his knees, his eyes cast down to the dusty apartment floor. He's sick at the thought of relaying Penny's trauma again but he knows that if he's going to hit his brother up for seven grand he deserves to know why. Tommy clears his throat and begins the tale of abuse worse than anything he or Brendan ever endured. When he's finished he sees the look of utter shock and disgust on his brother's face that must mirror his own.

"Oh my god, Tommy. Oh my god… Jeff did that to his own niece." The shock is turning to outrage; Tommy can only assume that in his mind Brendan is piecing together that Penny was only a mere three years older than Rosie is now when she was first raped by her own kin.

"The worst is that it's still killing her, Bren. She's so fucked up on smack that she's almost dead to this world. There ain't much of the girl that we knew back then left in there and I want to help save what is."

"What can I do, Tommy?" Brendan asks, his words echoing the same thing he'd said to Heather in the cafeteria.

"I need to borrow some money to get her into a treatment program here in Pittsburgh. It's going to cost a lot and I know it'll take me a while but I'll pay you back every dime…"

Brendan holds his hands up and closes his eyes, sighing loudly.

"Tommy, it doesn't matter how much, it doesn't matter. Let me do this for you. It's obviously something that's important to you and I want to help. Just tell me what I need to do."

"But I ain't even told you how much it is…"

"It doesn't matter. It just doesn't matter."

88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88 **88**88**88**88**88**

Thirty minutes later and after a call to Heather they're headed to the ER so that Brendan can meet her and she can better fill him in on the plan to save Penny Denton. The inside of Brendan's minivan smells like baby powder and fruit juice, the backseat is covered with dolls and books.

"A minivan? Really bro? I figured with five mill in the bank you'd be driving some sort of car that tells the world just how small your wiener really is," Tommy laughs as Brendan punches him lightly in the shoulder. It feels good, almost normal to rib his brother about something as silly as what he drives.

"Ain't nothing wrong with the size of my baby maker. And this is actually Tess's vehicle. I brought it in case I needed more room to haul you back home with me for a while," Brendan admits softly. Tommy lets it pass, choosing instead to focus on what Brendan was driving these days.

"So what _are_ you hauling that tiny penis around in now?"

"I bought a Nissan Titan truck, fully loaded, leather interior. It's electric blue, black on the inside. Growls like a mama bear when it's running…" Brendan looks ashamed suddenly and clams up.

"Bro, you got all the reason in the world to brag. You won, you earned it and you deserve it. Tess and the girls deserve it."

"I'll never feel good about it."

"Whatchu mean, Bren?"

"It hurt me to fight you in there. It hurt me to see how much anger you had towards me. I feel like I lost a part of myself that night that I'll never get back. Sometimes I think I would sleep better at night if I'd lost, even if it meant Tess and I losing the house, losing everything. Tommy, I'll never forget what I felt like seeing you in that corner all alone, hurting, crying. It was our childhood all over again, only it was me beating on you, leaving those marks, popping your arm out of place. It just_ kills_ me."

"Don't you feel sorry for me. If I'm hurting and alone it's my own doing, not your fault." Tommy looks out the window as rain starts to fall on the passing scenery. The dreary weather seems to mirror how he's feeling on the inside. There's still such a wall up between him and his brother; he doesn't want it there but he also doesn't know how to take it down. He honestly just doesn't know how to feel anything anymore except like shit.

"Do you think there could be something between you and Penny if she can get well?"

"Nah," Tommy dismisses it right away.

"Why?" Tommy can feel Brendan looking at him across the van as he asks for clarification.

"Because two broken people don't add up to a whole one. I have my own set of problems and they'd only complicate hers. She needs someone good, someone solid if she's going to stay on track and away from the shit that's gotten her to the point of trading sex for drugs. I ain't that man."

"You're a good man Tommy. Everyone but you knows it."

After another ten minutes of silence between them, they're at the hospital and meeting Heather down in the cafeteria. She stands and greets them with a smile and a cup of Café Cubano for each of them.

"Brendan this is Heather, Heather this is my brother Brendan. Good news, he's agreed to _loan _me the money to get Penny into River's Bend." Tommy emphasizes the word loan and looks Brendan hard in the eyes. Brendan gives him an almost imperceptible head shake no.

"They've moved her to a regular room upstairs on the third floor so she's out of my care now and I'll be free to petition the court on her behalf. No more conflict of interest." Heather smiles at the brothers, seemingly comparing how dissimilar they are in appearance. Tommy feels her eyes on him and he can't seem to meet her gaze.

"I can't thank you enough for helping Penny as much as you already have, we basically grew up together, her family lived next door to ours for as far as I can remember back," Brendan says, sipping his coffee. The look on his face tells Tommy that he's not a big fan of the strong brew. When Heather turns to look at someone coming into the door he switches his empty cup with Brendan's practically full one and gives him a conspiratorial wink. Brendan smiles and nods his head at his baby brother.

"You know, it's perfectly okay to say if you don't like something," Heather says, smiling sweetly at the brothers as she finishes her own cup. "I wasn't going to smack you with a ruler and _make_ you drink it anyway."

"Busted," Tommy singsongs as Brendan laughs. Heathers sweet voice and southern drawl make it impossible to keep a straight face as she chastises them.

"Listen guys, I have the literature and all the paperwork for the program at home, I didn't think to bring it in with me today. I get off around nine tonight, fingers crossed, so if you wanna meet up somewhere, grab a bite to eat or a beer we can start on the intake paperwork and the petition for the judge." Heather darts glances at Tommy and it doesn't go unnoticed by either brother. Tommy isn't looking forward to the ribbing that's sure to be headed his way when they leave.

"You know Dale's Diner on Kirkland? We can meet you there if you want," Brendan volunteers, "What time, you think?" He asks when she nods affirmatively.

" I should be able to make it there by no later than ten, I live in a walk-up right around the corner on Brentwood."

"No shit? Tommy does too," Brendan laughs, eyeballing his brother in a most exaggerated way.

"Yeah, I live in the red brick on the south side of the street," Tommy says, shooting daggers at his brother.

"I'm right across from you in the tan brick apartment building. Small world, huh?"

"Yeah," is all Tommy can think to say in response. "Say I wanna run up to the third floor and look in on Penny before I go. Brendan you comin'?"

"I'll ride up with you but I'll stay outside. I don't think she needs any more people intruding right now."

"Okay, well Heather, whaddya say we meet up outside your building at ten and ride together?"

"Sounds like a solid plan. My breaks over so I'd best get back upstairs. The belligerent drunk in Penny's old room who likes to fling poop is surely missing me by now. Later guys." Both men stand as she does, Tommy grasps his toboggan hat in both hands, daring a look at her as she leaves.

"Wow, I think Nurse has a thing for you Tommy."

"Aww, I knew you were gonna start this shit…"

Brendan holds his hands up and laughs. "You gave me shit about having tiny junk and driving a minivan! Ya get what ya give!"

Tommy growls and heads out of the cafeteria, saving his smile until Brendan is behind him. Tommy waits a good amount of time to avoid having to share an elevator with Heather, afraid she'll pick up on how flustered he is. He doesn't believe for one second that she's interested in him, she's far too smart for that shit. He can't say though that she hasn't been on his mind since he met her.

Stepping out onto the third floor Tommy looks around for the wall sign telling him which way to 321, Penny's room. Brendan follows him down the hallway, intending to wait outside the room until Tommy's ready to go. As Tommy nears the doorway he hears someone talking in a low voice, it's a man's voice, and then he hears the sound of Penny crying.

"… know what you need to feel better. But then I always did."

"Please give me the call button and just go Jeff. Just fucking go… pleaaaase."

Tommy looks behind him at Brendan and motions for him to come closer to the door, moving his finger to his lips to warn him to be quiet.

"I can get it easy, I can smuggle you out of here, take you somewhere and make you feel reaaaall good baby doll. Just like the old days."

Penny only weeps louder, the sound heartbreaking in its desperation.

"I'll come back tomorrow, you can let me know then what you decide. Might be your last chance to get high before they cart your skanky ass off to jail. Might be my last chance to fuck the shit out of you, whore. Hell, maybe I can call up Glen and Rick, you remember them don't you?"

Jeff's tone has turned menacing now. Tommy and Brendan hear the shuffling of shoes in the room and the brothers turn towards each other and back a good distance away from the door. They lower their faces to make sure that Jeff doesn't see them clearly as he passes by them, they pretend to be deep in conversation and the asshole doesn't even spare them a glance.

As Jeff makes his way down the hallway Tommy looks at Brendan, fury is etched on both of their faces.

Brendan nods at his baby brother and smiles. It's not a friendly looking grin. Then he simply says, "Let's go get that mother fucker."


	7. Chapter 7

_If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge? - William Shakespeare_

Tommy and Brendan keep a safe distance behind Jeff as he walks out of the main entrance of the hospital and towards the four level parking garage.

"I'll follow him to his car, you wait outside the main entrance of the parking garage, that's where I'll _suggest_ he exits," Tommy growls as he feels the familiar grip of icy control that always comes before a fight. It's how he's won time after time; he fights on strictly autopilot and it's only ever failed him once. Now the opponent who felled him is his ally and together their about to massacre a baby raping bastard.

"Be safe," is all Brendan says as he takes off running in the direction of his minivan. Tommy pulls the box cutter knife that he always carries out of his pocket and relishes the cold metal against his palm. He has no plans to kill this asshole but he does intend to make sure that the fucker never darkens any corner of Penny's life again. As he sees Jeff slowing down at the rear of a pretty nice Toyota 4Runner he calls out to him.

"Yo Jeff? Jeff Clarke, is that you bro?" He has to swallow bile as he makes the words as friendly sounding as possible.

Jeff spins around, his face confused and a little frightened. "Yeah? Who's there?" The taller, skinnier man squints as he tries to recognize the face speaking to him.

"Tommy Conlon? For fucks sake boy! How the hell are ya?" They slap hands as Tommy nears, the act making Tommy feel like he needs a hot shower with some bleach and a Brillo pad to clean the scumbag off of him.

"Eh, same old same old. Just come from the ER to get my shoulder checked out. Took a hard body slam at the gym tonight and it didn't feel right afterwards." Tommy smiles and he can feel anger bubbling up. He tamps it back down; this isn't the place to reap his pound of flesh from Jeff. Too public; they would more than likely be interrupted. Tommy wants to be thorough. He knows he needs to gain Jeff's trust and get him away from here to some place more secluded.

"Man, I saw the whole Sparta thing unfold with the rest of the free fucking world man. What a heart breaker. And to lose to Brendan of all people, who'da thunk it, right?"

"True, brother. Say, I don't live far from here, would you mind giving me a lift home? I really don't feel like waiting for the bus; the ER nurse gave me some pain meds and I feel like I might fall over any minute."

Jeff looks leery, of course this mother fucker wouldn't trust anyone. Ma had always insisted that people who don't trust without a reason can't be trusted.

"I hate to ask… say, I can pay you man." Tommy feigns pain, grabbing for his wallet and trying not to oversell it.

Jeff must realize that he looks like a total douchebag (which he is) and smiles crookedly at Tommy. "Man, don't even think about it, 'course I'll give you a lift."

Jeff pushes a button on his key chain and Tommy hears the locks open on all the doors. He hops in at the same time as Jeff.

"Just do me a favor and buckle up, safety first."

"Nah, asshole. Safety woulda been you never letting me in your car. Now drive mother fucker," Tommy pushes the point of the razor blade into Jeff's side hard enough to draw a yelp from him. He knows he's punctured flesh and he smiles. "You head out the main entrance of this garage and make a left. You try to alert anyone or make any rash decisions and I promise you that things are going to go a lot worse than what I have planned. You do what I say and you're gonna live; you may not want to, but you will."

"What the fuck is this all about, Tommy?" Jeff's voice is nearing dog whistle in its range, his eyes show white all around the iris and he's actually slobbering.

"It's about a little story about where this nasty baby raper took advantage of his own niece and ruined her life. It's about how he also loaned her out to two of his friends one night and got caught but nothing was ever done about it. Well Jeffie, you sick fuck, sometimes justice just takes a little while to catch up, yeah?" Tommy takes his eyes off of Jeff only to make sure he takes the left turn as instructed and to glance in the side view mirror; he sees Brendan pull in behind them and follow closely.

"I don't know what Penny told you but…"

"Ahhh, Penny ain't said shit about it; she's too busy self-medicating with heroin because of what you did to her. My Pops told me all about it, then he showed me the signed document where Stan Denton swore it all out. I got it in writing, Jeff." Tommy's bluffing but he need's Jeff to think that he has more than just his Pops story about how it happened and the scope of Jeff's guilt.

"It was a long time ago man! I paid for what I did, I got sent the fuck far away from everyone I knew. And she was asking for it!"

Tommy reaches across the seat with his free hand and backhands Jeff hard enough to send his head smacking into the driver's side window.

"Let's get one thing straight you sonofabitch, Penny didn't ask for any of it. A ten year old wouldn't know what to ask for. You spout some more shit like that to me and I swear ta Jesus that they'll pull you out of the Allegheny in chunks. Turn right here." Tommy's voice never rises above a low, threatening, simmer as he directs Jeff to an old abandoned industrial complex. He motions for him to pull over in an overgrown parking lot and tells him to turn off the Toyota's engine.

"Gimme the fuckin' keys and get out," Tommy growls and jabs the blade into Jeff's side again for emphasis. Jeff starts to whimper like a baby and Tommy see's red at the simple fools cowardice.

"Oh _now_ you wanna cry? You think that yellow shit's gonna save you from the beatin' I'm about to put on you?"

'P…p…please don't kill me!" Jeff is wailing as he spits and blubbers all over the steering wheel, his fingers clasping it so tightly that his knuckles turn ghostly white.

"I done told your dumb ass that I ain't gonna kill you, but I _am_ gonna send you a message and you better take heed. Now get tha fuck outta the car!" Tommy leans in and screams his warning into Jeff's ear, "And quit that fuckin' crying!"

Brendan yanks open the driver's door, causing Jeff to shriek even louder.

"Surprise, mother fucker! Remember me?" He laughs and the sound echoes across the empty lot. "Scream all you want, I'm pretty sure ain't no one here but us three."

Jeff makes a feeble attempt to run but Brendan grabs him by the shoulder and tosses him effortlessly to the ground. Jeff cries escalate in volume as he rises up to his knees. Brendan reaches into Jeff's back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He takes the driver's license out and tosses it to Tommy who looks at the address then slips it into his back pocket.

Tommy removes his jacket and shirt, then starts walking circles around Jeff, cracking his knuckles and staring him down.

"Seems like you're doing well for yourself there Jeff. If I'm not mistaken that address is in a pretty nice neighborhood, yeah? You got a lot to lose, dontcha?" Jeff whimpers pitifully and pulls his hands up in front of himself, as if to beg Tommy. The sight infuriates him and he pounds his right hand into his own thigh to keep it in check. "Did Penny cry like this? You know, back when she was just a little girl and you took what wasn't yours to take? Did she beg for mercy or did she just cry? ANSWER ME MOTHER FUCKER!"

"She begged me not to then she cried when I did!" Jeff screams and holds his hands over his ears as if blocking out the sound of Tommy's voice will make what's coming less real.

"But you didn't have any mercy did you? DID YOU?" Jeff shakes his head rapidly from side to side. A smell hits Tommy and Brendan at the same time and they look at each other.

"Did this mother fucker just piss his pants?" Brendan asks as Tommy closes in. Grabbing Jeff by his ears he drags him to his feet, glancing down at the growing puddle at his feet.

"Looks like it, Bro. What should we do with this mother fucker? See I was thinking that we oughtta take one of those wooden sticks over there and shove it in his ass repeatedly, break it off in there and beat him with what's left of it," Tommy slaps Jeff's face again and forces the man to look him in the eye, "But these baby rapers, they're kinky mother fuckers and he might like that shit. Whatchu thinkin' Bren?"

"Oh I was thinkin' we should break his arms and legs and then make him swallow his car keys one by one. I doubt he's kinky enough to like the way those would feel coming out the other end. We could leave him out here naked, tied to the fence over there. Someone might find him in time, might not too."

"That sounds like a fine plan, even better than mine I do believe. But you know what I think?" Jeff starts screaming at the top of his lungs at what he surely thinks is going to be an even worse idea than the two before. Tommy pulls his head back by his hair and slaps him across the cheek to shut him up.

"Listen up you bastard, I think I'll just leave you here with this warning because there's been enough violence already. I don't know for sure why you did what you did to Penny. Maybe you're just a sick fucker but I have this feeling that what you did to her was done to you before that. So here's what's going to happen. You're gonna stay the fuck away from Penny. As a matter of fact, if I were you I would relocate the fuck out of the 'burgh so you don't even just happen to run into her one day."

"You're fucking with me, I know you guys are gonna kill me," Jeff whimpers, bringing his hands up to his eyes.

"Believe me, every part of me wants to fucking end you. How can I be sure that you ain't doing the same thing to your little girl. Yeah I know you got one, I know a lot of things about you, including where you live.

"I… would never touch Makayla like that… she's my daughter for god's sake, she's just a baby!" Jeff protests like he means it but Tommy isn't moved.

"Yeah? Penny was a baby, she was Stan and your sister Amanda's daughter, she's your niece and you raped her! I would like nothing better than to rid the world of a scumbag like you but you know what? You ain't worth the water it would take to wash your blood offa my hands. So you get mercy Jeff, you get mercy even though you gave none to Penny. You get my mercy even though you went to her hospital room tonight and tortured her again. Get the fuck out of Pittsburgh and if I ever hear tale that you come near Penny again that document I have will make its way to every person you know. I bet your sweet little wife don't know a thing about what you did to your own flesh and blood does she?"

Jeff shakes his head and drops to his knees again as Tommy releases his hold on him.

"I don't think Mrs. Clarke would want to raise a daughter with a known pedophile." Tommy reaches down one last time and grabs Jeff's hair, pulling his head back and forcing him to meet his stare. "Believe me when I tell you this Jeff. If I have to come after you again, you won't walk away from it. You got your warning, your only warning tonight. Don't fuck with me if you want to live."

Tommy turns and walks away, heading towards Brendan's minivan. Stopping, he takes Jeff's keys out of his pocket and pushes the button on the fob that opens the hatchback. Taking the tire iron out he proceeds to bust out each window, headlight and tail light. He uses the sharper end to puncture every tire, smiling with delight the whole time. But it's a cold smile, a scary rictus grin on what might as well have been the Grim Reapers face. With every swing of the tire iron Tommy is getting angrier and it's getting harder to swallow the idea of just leaving the bastard with a warning.

"You're driving around in a brand new car while Penny's blowing random strangers for smack." *SMASH*

You're married with kids and Penny's laid up in a hospital because she almost died from a drug overdose." *SLAM*

"You ruined her fucking life and you go on like nothing ever happened while Penny's dead on the inside!" *CRUNCH"

Tommy takes Jeff's keys and throws them into the high grass and brush. He drops the tire iron on the pavement then turns and rushes towards the man. Swinging his foot back as he gets within range of him he kicks Jeff in the balls as hard as he can. The man goes down like a bag of rocks onto his side, retching and gagging, in too much pain to breathe let alone scream.

"That's for Penny, mother fucker!"

Brendan grabs Tommy around the waist and pushes him towards the minivan.

"Time to go Tommy. It's time to go..."

"Bren just saved your life mother fucker! I mean it, you say one word about this shit and you're fucking done! I know where you live! Stay the hell away from Penny!"

As they reach the minivan, Tommy looks back and see's Jeff still on his side, his head resting in a pool of his own vomit. He feels just a small amount of justice for Penny seeing her rapist in the same shape he found her in. Climbing into the passenger's seat he looks over at Brendan. His brother is looking at him with pure awe on his face.

"What?" Tommy yells, swiping at the sweat on his face with his t-shirt that Brendan recovered from the ground outside. Adrenaline has him shaking inside and out, he can feel his pulse in his teeth and fingernails. His breath comes in gasps like he's gone twelve rounds already.

"I've never been more fucking proud than now to be your brother."

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They ride in silence back towards Tommy's apartment. They both need a shower and some time to calm down before they have to meet Heather at ten. Brendan's phone rings; it's Tess, wondering when he's heading home and if Tommy is okay. Tommy's surprised to hear the concern in his sister in laws voice; he's always just assumed that she had a strong distaste for him.

Tommy's impressed with how Brendan talks so calmly with his wife after everything that just transpired. He tells her that everything is okay and says that if she doesn't care he might need to stay another day or two to take care of some things. Apparently the two of them had already discussed the matter of money because Brendan tells her that he offered it. To her credit Tess doesn't ask for details, she merely tells Brendan to take care of what he needs to, to be safe, to hug Tommy for her and ends by telling Brendan that she loves him. He says the same in return and hangs up.

"I would've killed him if you hadn't been there. So thank you Bren."

"I really don't think you would have, Tommy. I saw something in you tonight that I never thought I would. You controlled your anger instead of letting it control you. You would have been in the right to beat the hell out of that bastard but you didn't. I will say that I think you did him one worse. He'll be looking over his shoulder, watching for you every minute until he gets the fuck outta Dodge."

A few more minutes and a couple more miles pass without words. Then Tommy's voice breaks the silence, it's so low and quiet that Brendan can barely hear it.

"There is so much I regret, Bren. I, I shoulda called you when Ma got sick. It was wrong of me to hate you so much for staying behind." Tommy looks over at his brother and see's Brendan's eyes tearing up.

"It's all in the past Tommy," Brendan says, his voice choking up with the words. "There's no need to ever think about it again. Ma's gone and ain't nothing going to change that, but you and me, we're still here and we still have time. I need you in my life Tommy. My babies need their uncle… I need my brother back."

Tommy chews his bottom lip as he takes in what Brendan is telling him. An unfamiliar emotion crawls slowly towards the surface of the wall around his heart; it starts beating too fast and suddenly Tommy's sweating bullets.

"Pull over Bren," he mutters, his chest feels tight, too tight.

"What's wrong?" Brendan asks, his voice frantic as he pulls over to the curb. Tommy throws open the door and staggers onto the road clutching his pecs.

"Tommy!" he hears his brother call from behind him and then Brendan is out of the car and beside him almost before the van is completely stopped.

Panic, guilt, fear, shame, sadness… all the things that Tommy has kept locked up tight choose to take this moment to make their stand. Tommy looks at his big brother and the tears come. His body is wracked with silent but bone shattering sobs as he grabs on to Brendan's shoulders and holds on for dear life.

"Tommy, please! Tell me what to do." Brendan is looking at Tommy's face, worry and tears clouding his eyes. It's more than Tommy can bear, he can't be responsible for any more hurt in this lifetime and he knows it, feels it in his bones. Tonight he has to let go of the rage or it will consume him. If he doesn't shut it down he'll end up as empty and dead inside as Penny; anger has been his drug, he's used it to dull the pain the same way Penny uses her heroin.

"Just say you forgive me Bren," is all he manages to choke out.

Brendan clasps his hand behind Tommy's head and pulls it to his chest. "I forgive you bro," he sobs into the top of Tommy's head, " I hope that you forgive me too."


	8. Chapter 8

_The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong. - Mahatma Gandhi_

By ten on the dot Tommy and Brendan were waiting outside of the building across from his. They'd both showered and changed clothes at Tommy's apartment, neither one saying much after the emotional outburst on the sidewalk. Tommy feels almost shy around his brother now; he didn't really ever get to know Brendan as a man, they were both kids when they'd split and he'd been an angry man when they first reunited. Nothing was ever able to get through those thick emotional walls he'd built. Now he plans to spend whatever time he had left making up for all the stubbornness and hatred.

Just two minutes after ten Heather descended the stairs of her building. She looks a lot different to Tommy with sweat pants and a zipped up hoodie on with her hair down. He hadn't realized it was a long as it turned out to be; her light strawberry blonde mane fell below the middle of her back. As she comes bounding down to them he catches the smell of strawberry shampoo, the same one his mother used to use.

"Hey fella's, mind if I drive? I get carsick in the passenger and back seat. I know, I'm such a girl…" she says already digging her keys out of her purse. Brendan looks over her bent head at Tommy and winks. Tommy responds by flipping him the bird.

"That would be great actually," Brendan says smiling widely and winks at Tommy again. Brendan is pushing Tommy's buttons again just like he used to do when they were kids. Tommy finds that he doesn't really mind now; it's good that they can remember how things used to be.

Inside the cramped little Mini Cooper, Tommy and Brendon both look like giants shoved into a matchbox car. Brendan has the worst of it, he'd decided to take the backseat. Dumb move on his part, he is a good foot taller than Tommy and most of it is legs. Tommy's shoulders have no room to do anything except rest against the passenger window and Heather's shoulder. Her car is spotless and smells like a beach vacation, somewhere between vanilla and coconut. _She _smells like expensive perfume and a basket of strawberries all at the same time. It might have been too much on some women but Tommy thinks that on her, it's just right.

Thankfully Dale's isn't that far from the block so they arrived quickly. Tommy jumps out of the car as quickly as possible so he can watch the spectacle of Brendan unfolding himself from the impossibly small backseat. He can't help but to laugh when his brother finally emerges, red faced and huffing.

"I tell ya, you crawl in and outta that thing ten times and you got an MMA workout. To hell with the bag and running!"

Tommy laughs out loud, the sound akin to rusty door hinges, albeit these are hysterical sounding, rusty door hinges. Heather and Brendan have no choice but to join in just from the sound of it.

Tommy turns, still chuckling, and opens the diner door, motioning his two companions in. Lily isn't working right now, instead it's Dale himself. Almost eighty but not looking a day over sixty, the old man is a spry as a twenty year old. He still insists on dressing like an old time soda jerk, paper hat and all. His wicked sense of humor makes him a customer favorite.

"Eh! Tommy! Who ya bringing in my place?" Dale is smiling as always and slapping some Philly steak around on the grill.

"Dale, this is my brother Brendan and my friend Heather. Guys, this is Dale, the owner and maker of the best Philly outside of Philly."

Dale lays his spatula down on the make table and walks over to the trio. He reaches across the counter and shakes Brendan's hand before reaching for Heathers. Instead of the same firm shake he gave to the older brother, he leans forward and plants a kiss on the top of Heather's.

"Very pleased to meet you both. I was starting to think Tommy here was a friendless orphan who _liked_ eating alone."

"Watch it Dale, just cause I like ya don't mean I won't mop tha floor with ya…" Tommy growls, smiling at the old man. Dale just shakes his head and heads back to the flat top grill.

"I'll be back to take ya order in a minute," the old man grouses as the three head back to the last booth.

Heather scoots in to the wall and Brendan leaves Tommy no choice but to sit on the same side as her; the tricky bastard plants his butt on the outside edge of the other side of the booth and smiles innocently at his little brother. Tommy flips him the bird again while Heather is busy pulling paper after paper out of her oversized purse.

After Dale takes their order, Heather gets down to business and starts discussing how to get Penny into the treatment program instead of sent to jail.

"The only reason Penny doesn't have armed policemen outside of her room right now is because Jim, the EMT she assaulted, hasn't filed charges yet. He had actually decided not to but I persuaded him to change his mind. If she's not bound for jail then she won't choose to commit herself to the program, we all know this. She also won't be ordered by a judge to go unless the alternative is that the taxpayers have to foot the bill for her stay in lock up. This," she says sliding a rather thick packet of papers into the center of the table," is just the petition to get court-ordered rehab. Brendan, since you're footing the bill for this, for now, we'll need you to fill out the promissory note and sign two copies, one for the facility and one for the court. They'll want payment within three business days after she gets checked in. Coincidentally, I called River's Bend and she's considered a charity case," Heather rubs her forehead and looks apologetically at Tommy, "and God do I hate that saying, they've agreed to reduce the fee to thirty-five hundred. Now, that money is non-refundable, even if she doesn't finish the program. Any questions about any of that?"

The brothers shake their heads no and she slides the rest of the paperwork forward.

"Now this is the tricky part, this is the paperwork that has to be filled out by her next of kin. I know she has an uncle somewhere here in Pittsburgh. We need to track him down and get him to sign the request for her police record to be released because I'm sure she's not going to consent."

Tommy and Brendan stare at each other dumbfounded. Brendan speaks first.

"We'll get him to sign it, we know exactly where he is and I'm sure he won't give us any shit about it." Tommy lets out a bark of a laugh at Brendan's insidious tone. Yeah, old Jeffie boy might shit his pants when he sees them coming again but he won't dare tell them no.

"Wonderful, now where is that charming old bastard? I'm staaaaarving!" Heather says, grabbing a menu from between the salt and pepper shakers.

Less than an hour later the brothers are leaning back into the booth, stomach's distended and sighing contentedly.

"My diet has gone to hell," Tommy mutters as he looks at all the grease from his Philly cheesesteak left on the plate.

"Yeah, same here," Brendan says, staring in awe at Heather. She had not only eaten a Philly steak but had also eaten a large order of fries and a slice of Lemon Meringue Pie. She is currently sipping coffee and fidgeting with the tabletop jukebox, flipping through the songs and laughing when she discovers one she had forgotten about.

"Cool Jerk by The Capitols! AHHHH! My mother played that one relentlessly! It was before her time even but she loved old Motown music like that…" she laughs, her eyes taking a wistful look. She's a million miles away and remembering something fondly by the soft smile on her lips.

Something about her laugh is absolutely captivating to Tommy; the sound is not lady-like at all and it seems to come from her toes, bubbling all the way up her insides and then erupting gleefully out of her mouth. The inevitable snort that finds its way in every now and then adds to the charm of it rather than taking away. Her Kewpie doll lips stretch across her tremendous smile, almost disappearing from the wideness of it. He realizes he's staring but he can't seem to get himself to break away. She's staring back, her smile never fading but he realizes that she's smiling while looking at his mouth.

"Well," Brendan booms and smacks his hands on the table, "in light of all the calories I just snarfed and the fact that I never got my run in this morning, I think I'll jog back to the apartment. Bro, front me the key and I'll leave the door unlocked for ya."

"I'll run with ya," Tommy offers but Brendan holds his hand up.

"You will not! I know Ma taught ya better than that. You'll see this lady home, after you take her to Kline's for one of those monumental Teaberry ice cream cones! You ever had one Heather? They're pink and the flavor is weird at first but you'll end up loving it, I swear."

"Sounds delightful, I could go for one actually." Heather chuckles and Tommy turns to look at her, he wants to see that smile again.

"You still hungry?" Tommy asks, not thinking about how rude his question really is. With his eyebrow arched he turns to his brother just as Brendan reaches across the table and punches him solidly in the shoulder.

"Let me tell you a little something about me fella's. I could eat both of you out of house and home. I've actually considered dropping my career as an RN and going into competitive eating. I am seriously hungry all the time, I have an extremely high metabolism."

"Keys?" Brendan asks, shaking his open hand at Tommy who digs in his pockets, removes the door key to his place and drops it into his brother's palm.

"I won't wait up," Brendan says and smiles, "Do I get the bed or the couch?"

"Take the bed, I usually end up sleeping in the living room anyway with the TV on."

Brendan stands and stretches then says his goodbyes before dropping forty dollars on the table. "Ya'll tip that old man good," he laughs and heads out the door.

"Well, he certainly was bent on the two of us having some time alone," Heather says as soon as Brendan's gone. Tommy's head spins so fast towards her it makes him dizzy.

"You just say everything you think?" His eyebrow is raised again and he knows his mouth is open. It's been a while since someone shocked him this way.

"I spent far too much of my life shut away and afraid to say anything. Now it's balls to the wall, let it all out living for me. Is it too much for you?"

"Ain't nothin' I can't handle," Tommy says, making it sound almost like a challenge.

"You might well regret saying that to me," Heather says, smiling sweetly. "So, you takin' me for ice cream or what?"

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Sitting outside at almost midnight in the cold weather of Pittsburgh eating an ice cream cone isn't the most comfortable thing to do but Tommy isn't complaining a bit. He's absolutely fascinated with the woman across from him.

Heather, it turns out, is from a small town in East Tennessee called Telford which doesn't have a single traffic light or even a Walmart. The only store they have was a mom and pop place in the neighboring town of Rheatown and on Friday nights the locals descend on the place with their banjoes and fiddles and play for anyone who wanted to listen.

"What's a fiddle?" Tommy asks between licking his cone and blowing on his hands to try and warm them up.

"It's a violin basically. I don't think there's a difference…"

"Here, you have some stuff on…" Tommy reaches over and uses his finger to wipe some dripped Teaberry ice cream off of Heather's chin and sticks the finger in his mouth without thinking. Heather has stopped talking and eating her cone, she's watching his mouth again, her lips parted slightly, her eye lids heavy.

"So yeah, your brother was right about this stuff," she says, snapping out of her trance and looking sheepish, "it does taste kind of weird at first but I _am_ starting to appreciate it now."

She takes her tongue and licks all around the edge where the cone and ice cream meet. He's the one who can't stop watching now.

"You're melting," she says, pointing at his left hand.

"What?"

"Your body heat is melting your ice cream all down your hand." Tommy looks and see's that he is indeed covered in sticky pink stuff. Heather hands him napkins as he changes the cone to his other hand and starts to sling the mess onto the pavement. He cleans himself up and dedicates his mouth to finishing more empty calories instead of embarrassing himself further.

"Where do you work out?" Heather asks casually.

"That place on Franklin, used to be called Fitzy's when I was a kid but now Colt Boyd owns it. I work there too but I guess I already told you that," he mumbles, not able to look at her without staring. This girl has him feeling like a hormone riddled teenager again. Without thinking he speaks again.

"You wanna see it? They're closed but I have keys, it's probably safer in there now without all the meatheads peacocking and talking shit, god knows it _has_ to smell better."

"I'd love to," Heather says, standing and shoving the very last of the cone into her mouth. Tommy stands as well, giving up on trying to salvage the last of the rapidly melting mess in his hand. He throws the remainder of his cone into the garbage and starts to try and wipe the stickiness away.

"Here, this'll help," Heather says, holding out a little container towards him. He presents his open palm and she squirts something that smells like bubble gum into his hands. He rubs it in and it magically takes away all the residue.

"What was that?" He asks, looking at his hands and noticing with horror that they sparkle now.

"Bath and Body Works I Love Bubble Gum hand sanitizer. Smells good, right?"

"I freakin' sparkle now…"

"Don't worry Edward Cullen, I won't judge you."

The reference is obviously lost on Tommy and it shows in his face, making Heather cackle like a mental patient.

"You seriously don't know who that is do you?" When Tommy shakes his head know, she smiles widely at him, the effect stuns him again. "You're like the last of the untapped rain forest. I like that about you."

They walk together back to her car and he directs her through a short cut to the gym. Parking around back in Colt's reserved spot he lets them into the back door.

Contrary to what he believed, three hours without sweaty men hasn't done anything for the smell of the place; it still reeks of ass and body odor. The smell doesn't seem to affect Heather but Tommy still feels the need to apologize.

"Sorry, I really thought it wouldn't stink so bad after a few hours of being empty," he shrugs with his hands in his pockets, eyes cast to the floor.

"Tommy, honey," she drawls as she wanders to the punching bags, "I deal with poop, pee, vomit and blood all day long. You ever had to empty a colostomy bag? Well I have and after that, the smell of sweaty men and testosterone isn't going to phase me. In fact, I kind of like it."

Tommy refuses to show how much her last sentence stuns him, he's pretty sure she said it to get a reaction out of him.

Tommy watches as she brings her hand back and lands a punch on the bag. The trainer in him immediately reacts.

"That how you think you throw a punch?"

"Let me guess; I did it completely wrong?"

"Well yeah, unless you _want_ to break your wrist."

"So show me," she laughs, folding her arms. When hesitates she says, "I'll pay for the lesson if you want," and winks at him.

"Don't be dumb," he smirks and takes off his jacket. She mirrors him and takes off hers as well. She looks cute in the Ocean City, Maryland t-shirt that's about two sizes too big. Her sweat pants are rolled at the waist and he can't look away as she knots the front of her shirt to keep it from billowing out and getting in the way.

"First off, you never work any sort of bag without wrapping your wrists and hands good. I'll be right back." Tommy turns and runs to his locker, coming back two red wraps. "Now I'll wrap for you. I want you to spread your fingers as wide as ya can. Okay, first let's put your thumb through this loop," he directs and she does. He does the typical wrap, weaving the elastic material around her wrist, thumb and between each of her fingers. It doesn't take long to get both hands wrapped and ready and he is loath to let go of her. Every time his skin touches hers he feels a jolt of electricity. Now normally you'd want to wear some sort of leather padded gloves over this but I don't have any to fit you so take it easy, 'kay?"

Heather nods quickly and smiles, "Okay, what now?"

Tommy steps behind her and turns her by the shoulders to face the heavy bag. "Spread your feet about a little more than shoulder width, you a rightie or a south paw?"

"Right handed," she says and he can hear the smile in her voice. He can't help but grin too.

"Okay so you want your right foot back, don't spread 'em too far apart. I know it feels like you should and it does give you more balance but it'll take power away from your punch. Turn your right foot slightly out to the side, yeah, that's good."

She's as still as a statue, waiting for his next directive; he wishes mentally that all his female clients were this compliant when he was training them. Most of them did their best to "accidentally" bump back into him repeatedly.

"Okay, next thing is you want to make yourself as small a target as possible. Chin down, knee's slightly bent and elbows in." She follows what he says immediately and he has to admit that she's a good student. He also has to admit that her butt looks amazing in those sweat pants from this angle. "Now here's the thing that throws most people when they're starting out; almost none of the power you need to throw a good punch comes from your arms. You want to start the momentum with your back leg and transfer it up your body and then out in your punch. If you try to use your arm muscles alone, you're gonna end up pulling a muscle or three and worn out real quick. Imagine a line going straight from your right leg up your side and into your right fist, that's the way you route your momentum."

Tommy's hands go to her waist and he pulls her back slightly onto her right leg, then he pushes her forward gently, using his right arm to guide her by the elbow into pushing her right fist into the bag. It's slow motion, almost sensual as he feels the muscles in her arm contract against his fingers.

"Now, let me see you do it," he says lowly in her ear and takes a couple steps back, noticing the goose bumps that spread across her shoulders.

She takes a perfect stance, does a text book transference and punches the bag solidly. Tommy's impressed.

"Next lesson; your left hand is your weak hand but is good for distracting your opponent from the big punches. So you jab with your left, don't worry so much about using that leg to transfer. Let me see you do a one-two."

He doesn't even have to show her, she takes stance again and does a textbook move.

"How'm I doing teach?" Heather asks, spinning to face him with her hands in the air like she's just won her first fight.

"You're an excellent student Heather." Tommy's eyebrows furrow and he stares at her.

"What? I have a booger or something? She asks, looking down at her heavily wrapped hands helplessly.

"Naw, nothing like that. I just realized I don't even know your last name."

"Hunter. My name is Heather Elizabeth Hunter."

"Well now it's okay."

"Okay for what?"

"For me to kiss you."

Tommy leans in and lifts her chin up. His lips graze hers lightly at first then the kiss turns hungry. When was the last time Tommy kissed someone like this? When he'd kissed Penny the last time. And that was just a frustrated, immature little boy who didn't know a thing. Now he was older and starved for affection.

Heather isn't responding and he pulls away, suddenly ashamed of what he's done. She's not said one thing about wanting to kiss him or even that she thinks about him like that.

"I'm sorry Heather. I'm really, just… ah shit, I don't know what I was thinking."

"No, Tommy, look at me. Don't be sorry." He turns to face her and she's smiling up at him. "Don't be sorry. It's just that I've been thinking about what kissing you must feel like all night but I never thought for a second that I'd get to see…"

"I don't have a whole lot of practice… it was probably bad…"

"Shhhh," Heather coo's and sidles closer to him. "Let's try this again."


	9. Chapter 9

_Let everything happen to you_

_Beauty and terror_

_Just keep going_

_No feeling is final_

_- Rainer Maria Rilke_

Tommy backs Heather into the wall slowly, his lips moving softly against hers, his tongue hesitantly asking permission to dance. His hands find their way to each side of her face and he cups her jawline in his palm, relishing the feel of its movement as she opens her mouth to accommodate him. She moans lowly as their tongues tangle and the sound seems to go directly to a part of him that hasn't shown interest in anyone in a while. He moves his hips away from her body, ashamed of the way he's tenting the front of his sweat pants. Heather grabs his hips and pulls him back up against her, the difference in height putting his erection against her stomach. He tries to pull away again but she holds tight to him, growling in protest.

"I keep telling myself that I can't sleep with you, Tommy, not yet. I'm not the kind of girl who can just fall into bed with a guy regardless of how absolutely fucking sexy he is," she breathes into his ear causing the throbbing in his pants to increase by a thousand percent, "but I'm having a real hard time sticking to my morals. All night I've been watching that mouth, those lips and wondering what it would feel like to have them all over me."

Heather moans as he pulls her hair forcing her head back and exposing her neck. He runs his tongue from her collar bone all the way to her ear causing her to shiver. He breathes in her perfume and buries his nose in her hair. The smell of her is enough to drive him insane but to hear her talk like that is lovely and painful at the same time. He grabs her around her waist and picks her up. Heather wraps her legs around his hips and clasps her arms around his neck as he carries her to Colt's office. There's a couch in there that might be big enough to accommodate the two of them for a while.

Kicking open the door he flips on the light and closes the door behind them without ever breaking the kiss.

"You don't have to sleep with me, I won't pressure you. But god, don't make me stop kissing you," Tommy moans hoarsely, his voice shaking. He's not concerned with the actual act of sex but he craves this intimacy, needs to feel close to someone; he's aching to feel alive again.

Heather wraps her fingers in his hair and presses her mouth tighter against his. He breaks the kiss long enough to lay her down on the couch and she scoots to the back to make room for him.

"Take your shirt off, I want to see you," she requests, her eyes looking him up and down unashamedly. He strips the t-shirt and tank underneath off without hesitation and Heather sighs one word loudly. "Beautiful."

Tommy lays down on the couch beside her and claims her mouth again. This time the kiss is less hungry and more sensual. His hands never move from her hair and her side. Heather on the other hand traces her fingers up and down his abs, outlining every muscle. The feel of her finger tickles, causing his abs to contract; the sensation only makes him harder. Grabbing his right hand Heather moves it up inside her shirt, underneath her bra.

"It's okay to touch me Tommy," she moans. Her frankness in words and actions stun him a little but he's happy to oblige her. He can feel her nipple harden as soon as his fingers brush it and another longing sigh escapes her lips. He pulls her shirt and bra up and lowers his head, taking her into his mouth, sucking lightly. She moans louder now and the sound electrifies him. He clutches at her ass, grinding into her as he runs his tongue around the stiffened peak. Her hand clasps the back of his head, urging him to continue. Then, from out in the gym they hear the sound of a phone. It's an unusual ringtone and the spell is broken as soon as Heather recognizes it.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Heather sits up and pulls her shirt down, breaking his hold on her. "That's work. Jesus, Tommy I'm so sorry. I have to answer that. Let me call them back and see what's going on, okay? Don't go anywhere, more than likely it's nothing but I have to call…"

Heather backs out the door still apologizing and Tommy lays on his back on the couch. He's almost thankful for the interruption; too much more and there wouldn't have been any way he could have stopped himself from taking her regardless of if it was too soon or not. He can hear her talking in mumbled tones, the words indistinct until he definitely hears her say, "Oh my god… no."

Sitting up on the couch he looks out into the gym and see's Heather with her head down, clutching her forehead as she closes the cell phone. He starts to leave the office but sits back down on the couch as she heads back towards him. Looking at her is like looking at a ghost, she's as white as a sheet and looks positively ill.

"You okay? What happened?"

"Oh my god, Tommy. I don't know how to tell you this. Oh sweetie…"

"What?!" Panic rises in him, he can feel the blood pounding in his ears and his pulse in his mouth.

"Tommy, Penny's dead. She jumped off the roof of the hospital and killed herself."

"You're lying, why would… why would you say some shit like that?" Tommy stutters. He feels stunned like he's taken a blow to the head. More like a blow to the heart.

Heather sits on the couch next to him, tears rolling down her face. "Oh Tommy, I wish it wasn't true. That was Sandy from the ER, she called me to tell me since she knew I'd taken an interest in getting Penny into River's Bend." Heather moves to put her arm around Tommy but he pushes her away and stands.

"Don't… just don't touch me!"

"Tommy," Heather pleads, her face turned up to him. Her tears make him furious and sick all at once. This chick doesn't even know Penny. Why the hell does she even care?

"Maybe if I hadn't been here fuckin' around with you I woulda been there to stop her. Maybe if I didn't have you in my ear, givin' me all this false hope I coulda been doin' something real for that girl!"

Heather's mouth is open and she stares at him in shock. He grabs his shirts off the floor and storms out. He doesn't hear her call for him as he passes the bag and picks up his jacket. He knows why she did it, he knows where he's going, what he's going to do once he gets there and he hopes the cell they put him is the last place he'll ever live.

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The cab drops Tommy off in front of the house at the address on the pilfered license at eight a.m.. After walking around some of the worst areas in the 'burgh, just hoping some thug or hoodlum would try and start some shit with him, he'd waited until now to come here.

He can see shadows moving past the windows and lights on so he knows Jeff is up. The sonofabitch is probably packing but it doesn't matter; his next home is going to be a fucking pine box.

He sees who he assumes is Mrs. Clarke back out of the garage in a rental car. He bolts across the road to the front door as soon as the vehicle is out of sight. Ringing the doorbell he steps to the side so Jeff won't be able to see it's him before he opens the door; then it's gonna be too late for that sick fucker. Tommy means to exact the ultimate revenge for Penny's miserable life and pointless death.

The door opens and Jeff looks outside warily, barely opening the glass outer door. Tommy's on him in the blink of an eye, has him by the lapels of his pajama top and is shaking him furiously before he even has a chance to scream.

"I never went back! I won't go back, I won't bother her, Joan's gone to rent the moving truck! Please! Tommy I swear I didn't go back!"

"It doesn't matter!" Tommy screams, so enraged that spittle flies with every syllable and sprays Jeff in the face, "She fucking killed herself this morning! She jumped off the goddamned roof of the hospital and splattered her brains all over the pavement. YOU FUCKING KILLED HER!" Tommy puts his hands around Jeff's neck and starts to squeeze, feeding all the anger and hatred into the fingers that are already causing Penny's tormentor and murderer to turn blue in the face.

"Daddy? Who is that?"

Tommy's head snaps around towards the sound and sees a little girl of no more than four or five. She's walking into the room holding a stuffed pink pony, rubbing her eyes as if she's just woken up. Tommy moves his hands quickly down to his side and stuffs them into the pockets of his hoodie. Jeff gasps for air as he realizes the stranglehold is gone and Tommy can see him fight for a look of normalcy as he turns to face his daughter.

"Kiki, this is my friend Tommy, Tommy this is my little girl, her name is Kendra but we call her Kiki for short."

"Tommy, why were you hurting my daddy?"

Tommy doesn't know what to say, the innocence of her voice stuns him into the violent recognition of what he was about to do to her father.

"Oh baby, Tommy wasn't hurting Daddy, we haven't seen each other in a long time and we were kidding around, playing." Tommy turns back to Jeff, stunned that he's covering for him. _Or is he protecting his daughter, _Tommy thinks to himself.

Kiki wanders over to Tommy and holds out her hand. "Very nice to meet you Tommy. I'm sad that I won't get to know you though. We're moving away today. Daddy finally decided to work for my Pappy Ralph in Mannashupeets or someplace like that. He says we can't live here no more since our car got stoled last night."

Tommy turns to look at Jeff and then looks down at the little girl who's still holding her hand out expectantly. Tommy reaches down and takes her hand in his, shaking it up and down a couple of times. He wonders at how the hands that were about to murder the father can be so gentle when dealing with the child.

"I'm very pleased to meet you too Kiki. If you'll give me just a second to talk to your daddy alone I'll get out of your hair and he can help pack up all your ponies." Tommy smiles as sweetly as he can manage and the little girl toddles off towards the other part of the house.

"I know…"

"Shut the fuck up Jeff," Tommy growls, pointing his finger in the man's face. "I got not use for anything you have to say to me. Just know this…" Tommy stops, breathing in deeply to try and quell the anger long enough to say what he needs to, "That little girl? She's the _only_ redeeming thing about you, she just saved you and she'll keep saving you as long as you don't fuck it up. You watch her like a hawk and protect her like she's the most precious thing in this fuckin' universe because she _is_. Save her from all the fucking scumbags like _you_ in the world."

Tommy spares one more second to glare down at him before turning on his heels and jogging back across the street. He doesn't stop jogging until he crosses paths with any place that serves alcohol at 8:30 in the morning. In Pittsburgh it doesn't take Tommy too long to find one.

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"Grab his legs…"

"I got his wallet, just makes sure the car door is open…

The voices sound as blurry as the figures look to Tommy. The last thing cohesive memory he has is of buying a round of Boilermakers all for himself.

"You fuckin' robbing me man?"

"Tommy, I'm your brother and you're nineteen kinds of pissed right now. I'm taking you outta here."

"But I got more beers to drink, man. Come on Bren, have one with me." Tommy sounds sloshed, even to himself, but he doesn't care. He likes the loss of control that comes with drinking, he's always liked it too much and that's why, for a while at least, he stayed away from it all together. "Heyyy, lemme go man!" Tommy struggles against the hands that are hauling him out of the bar and into the cool night air but he's too drunk to resist with any formidable effort.

"Let's get him back to my place. I have two bedrooms, you can take one and that way you'll be there if he needs you and I can keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't have alcohol poisoning," says a female voice. A face comes to mind and then a breast under a shirt; there's a name too but he can't recall it through the alcohol induced fog.

"Yeah, if he's ok in the morning I have to head out to Philly to get Tess and the girls. We'll be back for the funeral."

"What funeral?" Tommy calls out as he's shoved into the backseat of a vehicle that smells like baby powder and apple juice. He grabs something from the seat behind his head and tries his best to make his eyes focus on it. It's a red hair tie, one like Penny used to wear in her hair. They're talking about Penny's funeral. It all comes back to him in a painful rush and leaves him breathless, the pain in his chest white hot and stunning in its intensity.

First there was his Ma, he hadn't saved her from the cancer that ate her from the inside out. He hadn't prayed hard enough, hadn't begged god hard enough for his mother's life. She'd died screaming in agony, begging for death to take her from all the pain she was in. He'd failed her.

Then there was Manny. They'd waved the fucking white flags, tried to let their own troops know that they were bombing the wrong men, killing their own. He'd screamed and shouted in unison with Manny until it was only him screaming. He'd seen his brother in arms lying on the ground, seen that most of Manny was missing from the waist down. He'd done his best to piece him back together, to keep the blood from emptying out of his wounds. He'd held him in his arms and promised him that he was going to be fine, that it wasn't as bad a wound as he thought but it had all been fucking lies. He'd failed him.

And then there was Penny. He'd failed her the worst of them all. He hadn't listened hard enough to realize she'd been telling him about her trouble all along. It had been written in her eyes, in her movements, in the way she'd cryptically say things to him. He'd been too wrapped up in his own silly shit to realize that his best friend from his childhood was living in hell. Then he left her to rot just so he could avoid getting slapped around. Her pain compared to his own at the time was tremendous and he'd turned a deaf ear and a blind eye towards her. He'd come home too late to salvage anything that might have been left of the girl that once was. He'd failed her. He'd failed them all and now there was another funeral taking place because he was a human fuck up of epic proportions.

"It should be me in that casket," he mutters as the engine starts up and he passes into dreamless, drunken oblivion for a little while.


	10. Chapter 10

_ "Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will." - Mahatma Gandhi_

Tommy's head feels like a ten ton slab of pure dumb-ass as he slowly rouses from his drink-induced black out. He has no idea where he is, he can hardly open his eyes without the light in the room coming in and making his head pound harder. He doesn't recognize the smells of wherever he is. Is that strawberry?

Yeah, now he knows where he is. It figures she would come to his rescue, right? He vaguely remembers hearing Brendan's voice at some point recently but he can't remember what was said. He tries to sit up but his body isn't co-operating in the slightest. The pounding inside his skull increases with every movement and the pain reaches a point where all he can do is moan. He hears movement in another part of the nearby space, then the squeaking of a door opening. Footsteps approach and even the slight shuffling sound of them is enough to make him whimper in pain.

"Hold out your hand, I have some ibuprofen for you." It's Heather speaking lightly. Her tone is low but the words sound stiff. She's pissed, why wouldn't she be? He was pretty nasty to her last night, was it last night? He holds out his hands and feels two pills drop into his palm. He places them in his mouth and then feels her press a glass to his lips as she lifts his head gently from behind. Swallowing takes effort, more than it should. His throat feels scorched and blistered. How much had he drank in that bar_? Enough to forget, at least for a little while_, he thinks to himself as the medicine travels down his throat slower than it should have.

"Take your time getting up and don't be surprised if you puke. There's a garbage can to your left. Please try to direct it into there." The directions sound cold and clinical and all he can do is blink his eyes in answer. He hears the footsteps retreat and the door closes again.

Tommy feels like shit and it's more than the hangover making him miserable. He'd unloaded on Heather and it was a shit move. She'd only ever tried to help him, had never asked for anything in return for what she was trying to do for Penny. Hell, she'd even offered up her own savings to get Penny into rehab. But for what reasons? Tommy figures he'll never know now, she sounds pissed enough to throw him out the fucking window as soon as he's walking again.

As much as he'd like to force his way up off of whatever he's lying on and make the walk of shame to his own place across the street, he just can't. She was right when she said that he would puke, he knows it's coming but he tries to chew it back until the medicine kicks in and helps with the headache. No such luck though; only a couple of minutes pass before he has to roll off into the floor and blindly find the can. Torrents of bitter bile and undigested alcohol makes its way out of him and the smell of it causes additional vomiting. At some point Heather makes her way back into the room and lays a cold cloth on the back of Tommy's neck as he purges the last of his stupidity from his system. She grabs him underneath his arms and helps him back onto what he now knows must be her bed. She feeds him another two tablets and some water and props him up on pillows before taking the can from the room.

Tommy realizes that he must have dozed off again because when he opens his eyes the light isn't coming through anymore and his headache is gone. He slowly sits up on the edge of the bed, his toes making contact with the garbage can which no longer smells like bourbon and stomach acid. He feels even worse knowing that Heather has taken care of him and cleaned up his sick even after the way he treated her. _Score another one for Asshole Conlon, Jr. _Looking down he realizes he's in his boxer briefs and nothing else. He glances around the room but doesn't see his clothes anywhere. Standing is a slow process, his balance is shit and his head swims as he takes some tentative steps to the door. Opening it a crack he sees Heather sitting on the couch, her feet curled underneath her body, her face distant and lost in thought. There's a manila folder in her lap; he can tell that she'd been crying not too long ago and he feels even more like a cad.

"Heather," he calls lightly so as not to startle her, "I, um, I can't find my clothes."

"I'll go get them, they're still in the dryer. I didn't think you'd be awake yet. Sorry." She's terse with her words and her body language as she stands, tossing the folder onto her coffee table. She disappears down a hallway and is back in a couple of minutes with his belongings. They're folded neatly and they smell a lot better than they ever do after he does laundry. His wallet and the keys for the gym he'd left her at are sitting on top. She passes the stack to him and closes the door in his face before he has a chance to thank her.

Tommy takes his time getting dressed. He owes her an apology but he's not good at them. He can't seem to ever say sorry without it ending in tears or an argument. Sitting on the edge of her bed he rubs his face roughly and realizes his hands still smell faintly of bubble gum. He can't help the smile that crosses his lips briefly. It had started out so good that night. But he'd choked a man with those bubble gum scented fingers and had drank enough to kill a normal man in a seedy dive since then.

Looking at the bedside table he sees a framed picture of a dark haired woman. The picture is a candid shot, the woman is smiling, her head thrown back and a very familiar smile gracing her face. There's no doubt whoever this is, she's related to Heather somehow. Not willing to stall anymore, Tommy stands and walks slowly to the door, ready to do his best to convey just how shitty he feels about everything.

Heather isn't on the couch, instead she's at a little four seat dinette in the kitchen area. She has the folder in front of her, her hands are clasped together and she looks beyond grim.

Walking over Tommy opens his mouth several times before the words actually start to come out. "Heather, listen. What I said was…"

"Shut up and sit down Tommy Conlon. You've said enough, now it's time for you to listen and you'd better hear me." She turns her face to him and there's no doubt from the look on her face that she means business. He doesn't even think of not doing exactly what she says; he meekly walks to the table and pulls out the chair directly across from her and sits.

Opening the manila folder she pulls out a picture and pushes it across the table to him. Glancing down he sees an emaciated looking girl. Her body is covered in scratches and bruises, both of her eyes are blackened. At the bottom of the picture a piece of white paper has been glued to it. In typewritten words it says Hunter, H. Case 14789 evidence. He leans in closer and realizes that it's Heather. She's obviously much younger in this picture and had been brutalized by someone. He feels his anger flare up and he looks up at her. Her expression has hardened exponentially.

"I was fifteen. I'd been to a party, I was high on Oxycontin and I ended up getting passed around as the party favor without my consent or my knowledge. When the rape kit was done there were 34 distinct DNA fingerprints that came from inside of me. Thirty four guys had their way with me that night while I was passed out on painkillers. There hadn't been but ten guys at the party when I got there but they had so much fun with me that they'd decided to call some friends, then they called some friends. And they didn't just rape me, they punched me, slapped me, shoved other things inside of me… just for the hell of it, because it was funny to them to inflict pain on me and for me to be so out of it that I didn't even react, well at least not until I came around as the last three were having their turns."

Tommy opens his mouth but she raises her hand to silence him. "I said you're gonna listen and I fucking mean it. This isn't easy for me so let me get through it. Then you can say whatever you want or say nothing at all, but you're going to listen to me and there's a reason you need to hear what I have to say." Tommy nods and Heather takes a deep breath before continuing.

"You might wonder why a fourteen year old girl would be on such a powerful painkiller," she stops and digs another picture from the pile, passing it across the table to him. He's afraid to look but makes himself. It's a picture of the same woman who was in the bedside table photo. Only in this one she's obviously angry, her brows furrowed and pointing her finger and a lit cigarette at whoever is holding the camera.

"That's my mother. That's Olivia Hunter on a bad day; a day where there was no Motown or dancing in the living room. No, this is the kind of day where the demons were talking in her head and she drank cheap vodka straight of the bottle through a straw. One of those days when she would grab whatever was handy and try to beat out the evil she saw in me. I took this picture because she never remembered those kinds of days once they had passed, never really believed it was her that had left the bloody marks all on the back of my body. She's the reason I ended up on painkillers. You see, I'd gotten so good at rolling my twelve year old body into a tiny ball that she didn't have enough places to hit, so one night she decided to pick me up and throw me down a flight of hardwood steps. I ended up with a back that was broken in two places , multiple other breaks in my arms and legs and in a full body cast for nearly a year. The pain was so intense that I was prescribed pain killers during my recovery."

Tommy feels sick again as she relays what happened to her but he's determined to hear everything she has to say, he owes her that much.

"I was placed in Holston Home which is an orphanage for all intents and purposes for a year after the hospital released me but was placed back in my mother's care when I turned fourteen. I was sent packing with a script for Percocet and one refill after having been on it for nearly two years. When it ran out, I ran off with some other displaced kids from Holston. Drugs were abundant in the crowd, someone always scored something somehow, whether it was from robbing or bartering with their bodies. That had never been an option for me as far as I was concerned, but I couldn't shake my habit. One night a couple of the oldest kids broke into a pharmacy and came back with Oxy's. I'd never taken them before but after the first one I was hooked. After that, trading my body for drugs didn't seem like such a big deal. I lost my virginity to a Sheriff's deputy who fucked me in the back seat of his cruiser for some Oxycontin he'd stolen from evidence. Less than a year later I was in the Laughlin Hospital ER, being tested for every kind of STD imaginable because of the drugs I was on."

Heather passes another picture to Tommy, this one is of Heather and another woman. They have their arms around each other and are smiling. Heather looks a little older and much healthier.

"That's Karen Tilson, she's the nurse who took care of me in the ER after the rape. She's the woman who saved my life, even if I didn't know it or appreciate it at the time. She got me into a drug treatment program, was there every step of the way, even when I left the first time after 14 days. She tracked me down, talked me into going back and finishing. Not just that time but the three other times I left before I completed the program. She paid for it out of her own pocket, each time. When I asked her why all she would tell me is that she believed everyone deserved another chance at a happy life." Tommy looks up from the picture and sees a single tear slide down Heather's cheek. His heart is breaking for her; he wants to hold her but he knows this story isn't over.

"You see, I _was_ Penny. And after talking to Brendan last night, I realize that I was _YOU_ too. I was angry at the world, angry at my mother, angry that life had dealt me such a shitty hand. But I was so busy being angry that I didn't see that I was responsible for all my decisions after I ran away from home. _I_ put _myself_ in danger, not the universe. I chose to medicate myself instead of seeking help. I let anger and hate consume me and it cost me dearly. But then someone stood up for me and made me see things clearly. It didn't happen overnight but it did happen and I'm blessed to be alive. I'm blessed that I was given another chance, blessed that I wasn't given a disease the night that all those men took advantage of me. I was blessed to have my eyes opened by an angel here on earth. Karen gave me a place to live while I finished high school courses and started college but more than that, she gave me hope. She never asked me for a single thing in return other than to be happy and to stay clean and flourish."

Wiping her eyes, Heather pulls out a newspaper clipping and slides it across to Tommy. The headline speaks of a 'local woman' losing her life in a car accident.

"About a year after I graduated from the community college with my RN degree, Karen was killed in a car accident. She was hit head on by a guy who was out of his mind, high on meth. She was ejected from the car, thrown headfirst into a retaining wall and died instantly. You know what my first instinct was when I found out? To steal Oxy's from the meds closet at work. I was so hurt, so angry, so mad at God for taking the only stability I had from me that I wanted to overdose on my drug of choice and never come down. But I heard Karen's voice in my ear, clear as day, and she begged me not to give up, not to dishonor her that way. So I kept myself clean, not just for her but for myself. I never knew all the people she had helped the same way that she helped me until her funeral. There were dozens of us there. So you going out last night and drinking like that, you think that hurt your father? Did it hurt Penny for killing herself? Did it bring your mom back or your friend who died in Iraq? Did it get you revenge for anything that ever happened to you or did it only serve to make you sick and for me to have to clean up after you?"

Reaching across the table she lines up everything she has passed over to him and slowly points at each of them.

"This story, with a few minor changes, could be Penny, it could even be you Tommy. We all have our demons, _everyone_ does. Your father lives with the consequences of what he did to you and your family every day. My mother lives with Bipolar disorder and a greatly revised history; to this day she would never admit that she used to beat me and especially now that she's "found God" she never drank to hear her tell it. Penny lived with the memories of what was done to her and I live with mine. You live with the idea that you should be Superman and that you've let people down somehow because you're a human man instead. It's just not true!"

Heather stands and starts to walk back and forth behind the chair. She's agitated and speaking quickly, her hands fly out in front of her, gesturing wildly as she paces.

"I was wronged so badly by my mother and by strangers at a party. Hell, if I wanted to throw myself a pity party I could say that the system failed me too by sending me back into an abusive environment. But I choose to be someone different than what I was set up to be by my past. I choose not to be bitter, to live every day to the fullest. I choose to forgive my mother because she's sick. She's mentally ill and it's beyond her control because no one ever convinced her differently. She never had anyone like Karen to lend her a hand while there was still time to make a difference. I forgive those men at the party that did what they did to me. I knew if I were to carry around that kind of anger it would consume me so I laid it down. Forgiveness doesn't absolve them of their guilt, it doesn't mean I will ever forget it but I forgive them. Don't you see Tommy? If you continue to let what your father did to you back then define who you are today, he wins! The mean, abusive drunk from your childhood is still pulling your strings and that man doesn't even exist anymore!"

Heather looks almost deflated as she sits back down in her chair and begins to gather the papers and pictures off of the table. Quieter now, she puts them back into the folder and closes it before she speaks again, "I wanted to save Penny because I saw so much of my old self in her and I knew that even as far gone as she was she could still come back. I wanted so bad to see her overcome her past and to become the person she was meant to be before all the fucked up shit came and changed her path. I wanted to be a part of giving her a happy ending to a sad story. She's gone and I feel responsible; not for her death, but for what's going to happen to you now. Who's gonna make you see that you're a man of worth, someone who deserves happiness and a life free from the demons of the past? Who's gonna save you Tommy?"

Standing again, she puts the folder under her arm after taking out the picture of her and Karen. She smiles at it sadly and places it on the table. Walking over to the stove she turns the burner control and lights the gas stove top. Putting the edge of the folder into the blue flame, she holds it there until it catches fire and then drops it into the cast iron double sink, watching it burn into nothing but ash.

"That's the last time I will ever tell that story," she whispers. Turning to Tommy, she folds her arms and stares at him defiantly. "So now you know my sordid tale. I told you because I want you to see that it doesn't matter what your past is. You have control now and you can choose to either let it continue to control you and rob you of any chance at happiness or you can tell it to fuck off and live the best life you can. I've only told this story to three other people and all three of them ran once they knew that I used to be a drug abuser and that I was gang raped at a party. It didn't matter that there is a million miles between the girl I used to be and the woman I am now. What's it gonna be with you Tommy? Am I too damaged, too ruined for you? Or can you look past all that and see me for the person I made myself into?"

Tommy answers her by crossing the distance between them and taking her into his arms. Carrying her to the couch he sits down, pulling her into his lap and holding her as closely to his body as he possibly can. He kisses the top of her head and the back of her neck lightly as she cries into his chest; she's letting go off all the tension and stress of reliving her past one last time.

"You're so strong, so brave," he whispers to her, his voice shaking with emotion. He pulls her tightly against him, refusing to let her slide even a centimeter away from him. "Teach me how to be strong like you. You're right, I don't want to be like this anymore, I can't live like this, I just don't know any other way. Help me… help me."

"I've got you Tommy, I won't let go until you tell me to. I promise."


	11. Chapter 11

_Pity may represent little more than the impersonal concern which prompts the mailing of a check, but true sympathy is the personal concern which demands the giving of one's soul. - Martin Luther King, Jr._

He feels like crying but the tears won't come. Heather's crying for both of them, holding on as tightly to him as he is to her. She lifts her head to look at him, there are tears pooled under her lower lids that shimmer and her eyes are pools of aquamarine. Tommy thinks to himself that he's never seen anything as beautiful as her in that moment. She's making herself completely vulnerable to him, opening herself up to be hurt if he chooses to reject her by walking out.

Heather leans forward and brushes her lips against his, she doesn't close her eyes and neither does he. She's trying to sense where he's at in the way that he feels about her now as if her past might diminish her in some way to him. She isn't lessened in his eyes in _any_ way because of what she's been through; if anything he marvels at how she's come through the fire and emerged even stronger. He might have the physique to make people think otherwise but she's the tougher of the two of them.

Tommy kisses her back lightly, not wanting to seem forceful in this moment even though he wants to crush her to him, to show how just how desirable and beautiful she is to him. Her sigh speaks volumes and she traces a finger lightly down the side of his face; breaking the kiss as she rests her head against his shoulder and looks up at him.

"You don't have to be a rock for me Tommy, you don't have to pretend to be anything you're not. If you're mad, be mad and let me see it. Smile with me if you feel like it and fall in love me with me if you feel it's right. But don't ever close yourself off from me. You and I, we can be strong together, for each other. We may end up with each other in the long run; I can't promise you anything but this moment. But for now, for me, this seems right. I felt it the first time I laid eyes on you."

"How can you be okay with so much uncertainty?" Tommy asks, feeling an emptiness he can't name.

"How do we really have a choice? We have so little control over life in the big scheme of things. We can plan all we want to but something is always around the corner that can come stomping down like a boot on an anthill. What good does it do to worry about the future or rail against the past? Trying to fight things beyond our control is pointless, we're only wasting precious time that could be spent enjoying what's right in our lives at that moment."

The minutes tick by in silence but neither Tommy nor Heather make any motion to move. He moves his hand to her neck and feels the her pulse surging underneath his fingers. Again, the balance between brutality and fragility strikes him. The hands that he's used all his life to fight viciously aren't so calloused that they can't detect something as precious as the beating of her heart. And what a heart it is.

"Tommy, don't take this the wrong way, but I want you to come to bed with me. I want to sleep with you. And I mean that literally. I'm exhausted and I know you must be too. Tomorrow, one way or another, we have to make arrangements to bury your friend."

"I don't think you want me in the bed beside you, Heather. I have nightmares and I wake up panicked. You won't get any sleep." Tommy admits all this to her while forcing himself to look in her eyes. She wants the truth and he means to give her every detail.

"Tonight you won't Tommy, because I'll be there. All these things that hide in the back of your mind until you dream, they won't come tonight because they'll have to fight us both. Come to bed with me. We'll change the sheets together and we'll get some rest."

Tommy doesn't argue, he grabs onto her hand as she stands and follows her into the bedroom. He feels ashamed as the smell hits him, the remnants of his wild night of drinking and the resulting sickness linger in the air. The sheets are tangled and mussed as if he rolled continuously while sleeping. Heather opens the sliding door to her closet and pulls out a light violet colored set of sheets. Together they strip the bed and replace the dirty linens with clean ones.

It's such a normal thing for a man his age to be doing but it feels bizarre. He's never laid in bed next to a woman in his adult life. All his drunken fumbles with anonymous women had been in hotels and the back seats of cars; he'd never lain all night next to someone and woken up with her the next morning. Shame and regret had always had him fleeing as soon as the act was done.

Fluffing the pillows and placing them against the headboard, Heather turns to him and starts to remove her shirt. He looks away; the wall, the floor, the ceiling, everywhere but at her.

"Tommy, let's just get this over now. I've picked the scab by telling you my story but I don't want the shock of seeing the proof of it to come later. It's best you see now." Pulling her shirt all the way off and then unhooking her bra, she lets it all fall to the floor. Even in the low light of the bedroom he can see that there are some scars on her sides but nothing like she seemed to be preparing him for. Slowly, she turns her back to him and he can't help the sharp intake of breath.

Her back is a crisscrossed map of what look like whip marks with smatterings of crater-like scars. He can tell that they're old, they're faded to a light pink and shiny.

"Pretty bad, huh? I'm glad they're on my back so that I don't have to see them all the time."

Walking around the bed he feels obligated to get a closer look. Amongst the remnants of abuse there are surgical scars; the precise, straight, and thin lines of them betray their nature. This must have been from where her back had been broken. As if she can read his mind she speaks softly, "They had to put steel rods in there to strengthen my spine. It doesn't bother me much these days but they warn me that as I age it could aggravate me and turn into some pretty painful arthritis. It's hideous to look at but it's a part of me Tommy. I know it's hard to feel anything but pity but please don't feel sorry for me…"

He stops her words by kissing the northern most scar on her back. She shivers as his lips trail down to the next line.

"You're beautiful," Tommy whispers between kisses, "These are a part of you and they're beautiful too." He kisses the next, this time licking it lightly and causing her shivering to increase to a tremble. "They tell your story Heather, don't ever be ashamed of them." He's on his knees now, pulling her shorts and underwear down until they drop to the floor. The scarring here is less severe but still visible and he doesn't skip a single mark. He can feel the goose bumps pop up on her skin as his lips make their way across her skin.

Tommy stands and takes her into his arms pulling her close to him. He doesn't ogle her nudity; he doesn't want to make her feel objectified. He only wants her to feel as beautiful as she is to him. He releases his hold on her and takes a step back. Looking into her eyes and nowhere else he slowly starts to take off his clothing. He stops at his boxer briefs and makes a motion to walk to the other side of the bed but Heather hooks a finger into the waistband of his underwear. When he turns to look at her she shakes her head and motions for him to drop them. He obliges.

"I don't want anything between us tonight."

As they climb into bed together Tommy lays on his back and opens his arms to her. She turns off the bedside lamp, casting the room into darkness and then snuggles her body against him. She throws her left leg and arm over him and snuggles her face into his shoulder and pulls the sheet up to cover them both. He feels the air conditioner kick on; the vent is positioned directly over them in the ceiling and an ice cold cascade pours over them through the thin sheet..

With sleep already evident in her voice she mumbles, "I hope you don't mind it a little chilly. I can't sleep if it's hot and I usually turn the thermostat down to sixty two at night."

Tommy smiles in the darkness at their shared love of an icy cold sleeping environment. He thinks to himself that even if he doesn't get any sleep tonight he's more than content to have the feel of her next to him. His fingers idly trace the scars on her back as he ponders how what she's been through could have broken her. Penny hadn't been through half the things that Heather had but what she'd endured had been enough to ruin her chances at happiness. He's not able to mourn the Penny that he found in the booth at Dale's. That was someone that he never knew. But in his heart, he mourns the girl he used to know, the one who was always there for him when he needed her, the one that he left behind.

If Penny had told him back then what was going on, would he have been able to do anything? Would he have tried to take her with him when he left? He had been in no shape to take care of anyone and it had only gotten worse for him when he'd had to watch his mother die. Who's to say what would have happened if she'd only opened her mouth and told someone before things got worse?

Tommy doesn't feel sleep creeping in like he normally does; he doesn't have a chance to fight it as it comes and takes him. The steady sound of Heather's breathing lulls him into slumber. He doesn't dream, he doesn't wake up screaming in the middle of the night and he doesn't move once. He keeps his arms around Heather and together they keep all his monsters at bay for a solid nine hours.

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Something warm, soft and smelling of strawberry shampoo is pressed against Tommy as he comes slowly into consciousness. He thinks he must be dreaming; finally a good dream instead of the nightmares. He feels something silky move against him and other parts of his body start to awaken with a vengeance; he's suddenly _very_ aware that this isn't a dream. He hasn't been this hard since he was a horny teenager waking up in the morning. Soft kisses pepper his neck and face, leaving his skin tingling. He lets out a low growl and slowly opens his eyes. Heather is above him, straddling his belly. Her hair falls in a messy cascade around her shoulders as she leans in to kiss his mouth. Her breasts graze the skin on his chest and he can feel her nipples harden. He moves his hand to the back of her neck and pulls her into his kiss. He's not holding back this morning; he opens his lips and caresses her tongue with his own before moving his mouth down to her neck. She moans as he sucks on the sensitive skin there, the sound echoes through the bedroom.

He sits up using the muscles in his abdomen only and rolls her over onto her back. He uses one hand to hold both of hers above her head on the pillow and the other to trace the outline of her body. He slowly teases her right nipple with his tongue while using his free hand to trace lazily around the other. Heather arches her back and pushes into the sensation, urging him to go harder, faster. Tracing his fingers lower he finds the curve of her hip, the soft skin like satin against his fingers. He moves inward and finds the softest, most secret part of her. She sighs loudly and opens herself up to his touch.

He's never had a chance to actually explore or see a woman like this. He kisses a slow trail down her stomach and comes face to face with something that's been a mystery all these years. Suddenly he's more than just intimidated, he's scared. It's never mattered to him before whether he's doing something right or horribly wrong. He's never cared enough to worry whether he's giving someone pleasure or not. Tommy gently opens her with his fingers and does his best not to seem as inexperienced as he really is at this.

Running his tongue along the lines of her, he listens to the sounds that she's making, remembering what he's doing when he gets the most favorable sounding ones. He uses his lips and tongue to play her like an instrument, drawing a symphony of sighs and moans from her. He looks up at her and sees that she's propped up on her elbows watching him; her eyelids are heavy, her mouth is slightly open and shaped into a soft _O_. Watching her watching him as he tastes her is erotic beyond belief and he growls fiercly. Finding her center he pulls it into his mouth and uses his tongue to lash it and make circles all over it. Heather throws her head back, her breathing speeds up and she drops hard onto the bed. Her hands make their way to his head and her fingers grasp at his hair, pulling him into her. He knows she's close to a release and he increases the speed and pressure of his tongue. He loves the taste of her, the smell of her. He's not even thinking about his own growing needs; all he cares about is giving this beautiful creature pleasure.

Heather calls out his name and her hips jerk beneath him. He feels the nub in his mouth spasm in time with her body movements. He feels like he should stand up and beat on his chest like a goddamned ape; he's that proud of himself. Sitting up on his knee's he looks down at the fragile figure in front of him. Her limbs are askew, her hair is a mess and her face is flushed. She's fucking stunning…

Heather draws her knees up, opening herself up to him even further and pulls him down on top of her. "Tommy, I want you so bad, sooo bad… but let's be smart about this." She reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a foil packet. Opening it with her teeth she reaches between them and rolls the condom down his length. She looks up at him expectantly but he can't be sure what she's thinking.

Tommy hesitates for a second but she looks so sure of him, of this, that he can't refuse her. Lowering himself down gently he positions himself at her entrance. She moves his hand and takes him with her own, pulling him closer, urging him in. She envelopes him like a silk glove; the feel of her so amazing that it almost hurts. He can feel her stretch to accommodate him and the sound she makes once he's fully inside of her is music. He has to stop for a second to gather himself; he doesn't want this to end too quickly.

Tommy slowly pulls himself out, concentrating on the feel of her as he withdraws and then plunges in again. He keeps his pace slow, watching every movement she makes. She lifts her hips to meet his with every thrust, she keeps her eyes are closed and there's a crooked smirk on her lips. Her hands clutch at his arms and he can't help but to flex his biceps as she grabs at them. Speeding up slightly, he hears her breathing keeping pace with his. He's getting close to his own release but he wants to make sure she comes again. Sitting up on his knees and grasping the her legs, he finds he can thrust further inside of her positioned this way. He watches her face as he moves faster; she's grasping the headboard, her knuckles white with effort.

"Oh god… Tommy…" she gasps as she opens her eyes and looks up at him. Hearing her say his name and then look at him that way is too much and he comes undone, the intensity of his orgasm is blinding, the roar of his blood pressure in his ears deafening. He can feel her insides grasping at him prolonging the intense feeling of his release. He lays gently on top of her, thrusting one last time and sending her over the edge again. Heather claws at his back, trembling so hard that he's afraid she's in pain. He tries to sit up but she pulls him back, refusing to let go.

Moments pass, then from underneath him he hears her giggle and say, "Jesus Tommy, if I had known that you could do that thing you did with your tongue we wouldn't have gotten _ANY_ sleep last night!"

Rolling over onto his side he faces her and smiles. Unused muscles in his face ache from the sheer width of it but Tommy doesn't care. He hasn't felt this good in a long time and if he can't share it with Heather, then who can he share it with.

"You've got the worst case of sex hair ever, Conlon," Heather says smiling and ruffling her fingers into his hair.

"I'd be careful slinging that shit at me, looks like a wolverine's been nesting in that mane of yours."

"Well I've been properly boinked if I'm looking that rough so I ain't gonna complain." Sitting up on the side of the bed she has her back to him. In the sunlight he can see better just how defined the scars are. Surprisingly he doesn't feel angry or upset, he accepts them. Looking at the clock on her bedside table he sees that it's almost eleven.

"Shit, I gotta call Colt…"

"Brendan took care of all that for you Tommy, he arranged for you to have the week off. Your boss totally understands…"

The realization of what he has to do today comes down on him hard and he feels the all too familiar flare of anger. He's going to have to talk to fuckin' Jeff Clarke again and it's the last thing he wants to do. Choking the ire back he rubs his face and flops back onto the pillow. He catches a whiff of sweat and lowers his arms to his sides.

"You want pancakes?" Heather asks as she stands and stretches.

"I could eat," Tommy mutters as his eyes trace the outline of her curves.

"Well, if you want this chick to cook for you, you'd better come earn it in the shower. Besides, you stink…" Heather looks back at him haughtily and pinches her nose between her fingers.

Leaping off the bed Tommy chases her into the bathroom as she squeals and laughs, forgetting, if only for a little while, about the task that lay before him.


	12. Chapter 12

_Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. – Philo_

It hadn't been hard to convince Jeff to turn over the funeral planning to the Conlon boys. He'd even agreed to donate a good amount of the money for the expenses without being asked but Tommy had refused it. He didn't want Jeff to have any part of laying Penny to rest. The money they would have spent on the rehab was going to more than cover her simple burial. There was no other family to contact, Jeff and his family had been her only living relatives.

Brendan had come back as promised; he was staying in Tommy's apartment with Tess and the kids. Currently it is just the two brothers sitting at Heather's kitchen table; all the women have gone out to order flowers for the graveside service and to buy a dress for Penny to be buried in. Tommy and Brendan have a grim task ahead today; they have to positively ID the body so it can be released to the mortuary and prepared for interment.

"Look Tommy, it's no problem. I can go by myself and take care of this."

"Nah, I appreciate it but I need to do this. Besides, she was so different than what you remember you probably wouldn't recognize her," Tommy mumbles and then feels like a moron. According to what Heather had been told no one would recognize her after the ten story free-fall head first into the pavement.

"Well, we'll head that way as soon as they get back with the clothes for her," Brendan says, clasping Tommy's hand from across the tabletop. "So uh, do you think…" Brendan mutters, looking down at his hands, "do ya think we should invite Pops to the service?"

Tommy's head snaps up and he struggles to focus on Brendan's face. "Why?"

"Well Tommy, because he knew her too, he watched her grow up and he was good friends with her parents all those years." Brendan's shrugging and Tommy can tell that he's afraid of causing a blow up.

"Paddy Conlon ain't, and never has been anyone's friend. He didn't watch no one grow up because he couldn't focus on anything but a bottle of booze and taking his anger over his shitty life out on his wife and kids," Tommy keeps his voice down and his tone cool but he can feel his face flaming with anger.

"Did I ever tell you what my final straw with Pops was?" Brendan asks softly.

"No."

"Well, you know, I'd kept him at a distance after I moved out and married Tess. I called him when I ran off and got hitched; I called and told him about the first pregnancy and then again when the baby was born. I don't know why I felt the need to report my life to him. I guess maybe it was my own way of letting him know that he never got the best of me, that he never broke me. Later on, when I would call him, he always sounded sober and like he had his shit together on the phone, each time more so than the last. So when we were planning the Christening for Emily, Tess and I decided that we would call and let him know. I wasn't planning on inviting him…" Brendan sighs loudly and stands up from the table. He pushes his chair in and stands behind it with his hands on the ladder back. "The night before the ceremony he called me, saying he wanted to know where he could bring a little gift for the baby and I told him to mail it. He didn't say much and that's about when I realized that he had been digging for an invitation that I just couldn't give him."

Tommy rubs his face, he's not sure why Brendan insists on telling him all of this; he already knows what a bastard their father is.

"The next day was amazing, not a cloud in the sky and the ceremony was beautiful. Emily was the best baby; she never cried, not once. Afterwards we go home for a little get together, just me, Tess, the baby and Tess's family and who's sitting on my doorstep but Paddy Conlon. Old, _drunk_, Paddy Conlon and man, he's pissed. He has this box with him that looks like a pack of mutts had trampled it and he flings it at me as soon as I came up the walk. I could smell the alcohol pouring off of him before I even got close. He screams that he is "my father" and has "every right to see his granddaughter get saved by Jesus fucking Christ", all in front of Tess's super religious parents. Then he swings at me."

"Shit," Tommy swears, shaking his head.

"Oh but it gets worse. He swings at me so slow that I have time to sidestep him. He ends up staggering around and he falls into Tess and knocks the baby out of her arms. Tommy, I swear I could have killed him in that moment. I wanted to but he was pathetic and all I could think about in that next second was making sure that Tess and Emily were okay. I had Tess's dad call the cops and they came and hauled him off. I didn't see him again or even talk to him on the phone until the night he came to tell me that you were back in Pittsburgh."

"And how is this supposed to make me want to include him?" Tommy says sarcastically, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Because Tommy, I've forgiven him for the pathetic old drunk that he used to be. I'm not betting the farm that he'll stay sober forever but while he is, I can't ignore that he's trying. Maybe it would be good for you if you tried too. You two were always closer to each other than I ever was with him."

"Maybe that's why it's harder for me to forgive him, yeah? But you're not saying anything I haven't heard before." Tommy says in a voice that is sedate and low. How many times can he ignore what he's hearing? This is the same thing Heather had said to him the night before.

"I'll make the call, but only if you say it's okay. Who knows, he might not even come."

Tommy looks past Brendan out into the daylight being framed by Heather's yellow daisy curtains. "Yeah, go ahead. What's a funeral without some family drama anyway?"

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Morgue.

It wasn't that long ago that Tommy had walked past this sign on his way to the cafeteria to talk about saving Penny. The sterile green continues from the hallway into the office area, the smell of antiseptic overpowering to the nose. Even with Brendan by his side Tommy would rather be anywhere than here, anywhere at all. There were a million ways this played out in his mind as he'd thought endlessly about being a knight in shining armor for his childhood friend; and yet none of his mental musings ended up with Penny deceased.

The young man behind the desk looks morbid and well suited for the job. He is thin and dark; he reminds Tommy of a male Winona Ryder circa the Beetlejuice era of her career. His eyes are humongous perched atop of a pinched nose and a shrewd looking mouth.

"Can I help you?" He finally asks, closing the folder he'd been pretending to read while making them wait.

"We're here to identify Penny Denton and to bring her burial clothing," Brendan answers, not trying to disguise the frustration in his voice. Apparently Tommy's older brother had also noticed this asshole's ploy and isn't having any.

"You're the next of kin?"

"Her only living relative has given us..."

"Unless you're next of kin I can't allow you to view the body." Looking back down at his desk dismissively, the man does his best to ignore Tommy and Brendan. That shit is just not going to fly.

Looking at the man's nametag Tommy discovers his name is Andrew. Tommy reaches across the desk and picks up the thick metal clipboard from in front of the man. Glaring at Andrew, he bends it in half until it breaks and then clips a piece of paper to the upper part, handing it back to the now shaking moron.

"Do I have your attention now? My name is Tommy Conlon and this here is my brother Brendan. That paper there gives us the right to ID Penny, her name was Penny, not _the body_, and to take care of all her burial preparation. I'd appreciate it if you took your little emo grudge and shoved it up your narrow emo ass. I ain't done shit to ya and neither has my bro but all that can change if you don't do your fucking job."

"Hustle, mother fucker," Brendan says from behind Tommy and Andrew nods, looking even paler now that they've scared the shit out of him. The man is gone in ten seconds, leaving the brothers alone in the cold waiting room.

"You think he's calling the cops?" Tommy asks, laughing as he turns to Brendan.

"If he's smarter than he looks he is," his brother says, patting him on the shoulder.

"Ain't it funny how people turn out because of shit that gets done to them?" Tommy looks at Brendan as he sits down roughly into one of the ugly forest green chairs.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that guy probably got the shit kicked out of him repeatedly by meatheads like me and even though he doesn't know me personally he reacted that way because I probably reminded him of what he's been through. Of course I didn't give him any reason to think of me differently just now…"

"Yeah but Tommy, the guy was being an asshole."

"True, but he's probably a decent guy who's just reacting the way he's been conditioned. Like that, oh you know Palmolive's dog or whatever."

Brendan bursts out laughing to the point that his face is red and he's gasping for air.

"What? What's so fucking funny?" Tommy asks, not feeling getting laughed at in a time like this.

"Pavlov… it's Pavlov's dog, not Palmolive," Brendan gasps, "Palmolive is dishwashing liquid."

"You know how I know you're pussy-whipped? You know the name brands of dish soap," Tommy's laughing now too.

Both brothers turn their attention to the sound of someone clearing their throat; it's Andrew and he motions for them to follow him into the morgue. The laughter ceases as they stand at the same time. Tommy lowers his head and follows on Andrew's heels. He leads them into a cold room with the classic wall drawers you always see on TV shows. Andrew walks over to one that is about waist height to him and starts to pull the handle. Clearing his throat again he pauses to speak before opening the drawer.

"Your friend sustained heavy facial damage because of the way she fell and, um, landed. I doubt you'll be able to use that as identification and to be honest it might be best if I covered that area to save you some… trauma. There are a few tattoos' that will probably assist you in identifying her and once that's done all we need to do is sign the release, receive her personal belongings, and then you're free to go."

As Andrew turns to open the drawer, Tommy reaches out and puts his hand on the guy's shoulder. Andrew jerks away, looking back with absolute terror etched into his gaunt face.

"Whoa there…" Tommy says, pulling his hand back, "I just, let me apologize for the way I acted out there. I know you're just trying to do your job and I shouldn'ta done what I did. That's all…"

"Well, um, thank you Mr. Conlon," Andrew stammers, not looking any less ill at ease. He turns and opens the drawer, it slides out noiselessly and Tommy can't make himself look for a minute. When he does he sees that Penny is zipped up inside of a large black vinyl bag.

"If you'll give me a second I'll use a sheet to maintain her modesty and to cover the facial injuries."

The brothers nod and turn their heads as Andrew does his respectful best for Penny and her childhood friends. "Okay, she's covered," he says when he's finished.

Looking down at all that remains of a life so hopelessly wasted, Tommy notices the same lime green nail polish that he remembers from seeing her wearing when he visited her in the ER. Any little shadows of doubt that maybe it was all a mistake or some cruel joke are erased. Tommy's heart sinks as he realizes the gravity of it all in that single moment. Penny's gone she's really beyond his reach and any help or solace he might have been able to provide her.

"You, you uh said something about tattoos?" Tommy stammers, unable to take his eyes away from the chipped paint on her fingernails.

"Oh, yes, she has two; one on the left shoulder and one on the right iliac region." Andrew says, reaching for the sheet. Looking closely, Tommy fights the urge to gag as he see's deep bruising mottling her skin around and beneath the script. _EX TENEBRIS LUX _it says in a simple font. Tommy has no idea what it could mean. "Here is the other one."

T.C. 1/29/84 enclosed inside of a heart. He knew exactly what this one meant. By the way Brendan clutched his shoulders he did as well.

"Yeah, that's Penny," Tommy mutters, his voice monotone and his brain feeling as if he might flat line any moment. The tattoo is his initials and the date he left with his Ma. His heart feels as if it's wrenching in half.

"I really am sorry for your loss," Andrew whispers, zipping the body bag closed and sliding Penny back into the darkness of the closed drawer. "I know you probably think I _have_ to say that but I don't."

"We appreciate it man, we really do," Brendan answers and they all turn to go back to the front desk.

Fifteen minutes and about fifty signatures later Tommy and Brendan have arranged to have Penny's remains transported to Evigan's funeral home for burial preparation. They decide against a formal viewing since she had no family opting for a simple grave side service instead. Andrew had turned over to them a small bag containing Penny's belongings. There wasn't much, just her clothes, a purse, some jewelry and a pair of shoes.

"Is there anything in there with her address on it?" Brendan asks as they climb back into the minivan. The day is hot for midwinter, the inside of the van making Tommy break into a cold sweat. Digging through the purse he pulls out all the typical things one might find inside. A compact mirror, some cosmetics, old movie ticket stubs; finally he finds a wallet.

Opening it up he digs through old receipts, about thirty bucks in ones and fives; and then her driver's license tucked away behind some coupons. The Penny in the picture looks like the same one he last looked at laying in a hospital bed. Gaunt, haunted; her image projects nothing but pain.

"Oh for fucks sake," Tommy growls.

"What?"

"According to this she was living in our old house."


	13. Chapter 13

_Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you. – Friedrich Nietzsche_

Tommy is practically sprinting to the door of his old house. Brendan is close on his heels, trying to grab at his elbows to slow him down. There's no point in talking about this anymore; Pops has a shit ton of answering to do and Tommy is determined to get those answers in any way necessary.

"Tommy, listen to me! You need to calm the fuck down before you go in there!"

"Why Brendan? Why should I calm down before I go in and face that bastard? Was he ever calm when we were kids unless he was passed out from drinking? Did he ever take a second and think before he raised his fist to any of us? Or did he just do what he wanted to get the result he expected? Why does he deserve any sort of mercy? He coulda told me about Penny MONTHS ago. He could have given me a fuckin' heads up about what bad shape she was in and maybe I coulda done something to help that girl before she did a swan dive off the roof of the hospital! Why shouldn't I fuckin' go in there and just deck that mother fucker for what he's done?"

"Because Tommy, he's old, fragile and he can't defend himself physically against you. If you go in there swinging fists on him then you're no better than he was back in the day. You'd be the same kind of abusive asshole picking on someone who couldn't fight back."

Tommy opens his mouth to yell some more but the truth of what Brendan is saying hits home. There's nothing like having your bell rung with hard, cold facts; something so essentially true that there is no possible argument against it.

"FUCK!" The scream is one of frustration and anger pent up for years. It's a call full of unfulfilled revenge that has been on Tommy's soul, blackening it daily. This need for revenge has almost swallowed him whole and taken such a huge chunk of his time and energy; how can he move forward if he can't seek what he's desired for so long? What will be left of him if he lets go of the one thing that's kept him going for so long?

"There's something else you need to know," Brendan almost whispers. His eyes dart to the front door of the old house as if he's worried Paddy might be lurking around there. "Pops didn't want you to know this, forbade me to tell you."

"What? What is it?"

"Tommy, Pops has cancer and it doesn't look good. He's supposed to start chemo soon but they aren't giving him very good odds of beating it. His body is weak from all the years he spent drinking. You don't need to get revenge on him, life is doing it for you." Brendan looks Tommy in the eyes and holds him by the shoulders. "He didn't want me to tell you because he didn't want it to seem like some play for pity. I told him I didn't think it would matter one way or the other and that you should know."

"I don't know how to feel about this," Tommy stutters, his whole body feeling numb. "When did you find out?"

"Shit…" Brendan sighs, pushing his hands roughly into his pockets, "he called me after they hauled you off to Pendleton. He wanted to know all the ins and outs of the arrest but all I told him was that you were already inside and I didn't know for how long . We got to talking and it just kind of came out by accident. He mentioned something about seeing someone I went to high school with at the Oncologist's office. I really don't think he meant to tell me. But as soon as he was through giving me the details he begged me to not tell you a thing about it; said you had your own worries. Then later, once he knew you were back in Pittsburgh he called me to say that he didn't want you to know anything."

"So why are you telling me now?" Tommy's voice cracks with emotion; even though he has issues with the old man he wouldn't wish the death his mother suffered on anyone.

"I think you have a right to know Tommy because regret is hard to live with. Now that you know your time to make things right with him is limited it might change how you handle things. Then again, it might not; I'm not going to push you in any direction or judge you regardless of what you decide. You fought a different battle with Pops than I did, you had a different thing with him. I can't tell you what's right or what's wrong, Tommy. All I know for sure is that you're my brother, I love you, and I refuse to let anything come between us ever again. Now that I got you back I won't lose you for any reason."

Tommy turns to head up the last few steps but Brendan pulls him to a stop again.

"Please Tommy, I'm begging, just don't hit him."

"I won't touch him, I promise."

Tommy lets Brendan pass him on the walkway; his older brother reaches the door and knocks. They look at each other and Brendan gives him a smile of encouragement. Tommy feels like a stupid kid again. There were so many days as a young boy that he had stood outside of this door, his heart thumping in his chest just like it is now. Only back then he was thinking of how to keep from being beaten when he walked through the door. Now he was worried about how to keep his promise to his brother.

The shuffling from the other side of the door is heavy and slow, very unlike what Tommy remembers from his pre-Sparta training days. Even though it had hurts Pops knees to walk up and down the stairs the old man hadn't lumbered like this.

Looking upon his father as he opens the door he can't help the sharp intake of breath. Only a few days have passed since he saw him at his apartment but he looks infinitely worse. His skin hangs from his jowls and neck and his eyes are sunken deep into his face. He's walking bent over and the pain he feels is etched into his stony expression.

"Come in boys, I've been expecting you."

Tommy and Brendan follow Pops through the living room and into the dining room where he has a pot of coffee ready alongside three empty cups. Motioning for the brothers to sit, he takes the seat at the head of the table. Tommy pushes away harsh memories of dinners spent in agonized terror, waiting for dishes to be thrown and blows to be landed. His eyes follow a still visibly worn path in the carpet that he used to watch his father drag his mother along by the hair of her head. He can still see holes that were shoddily patched after his father had knocked his brother's head into the drywall in a fit of rage. Closing his eyes, he wills the familiar, cold iciness to come and cover all the emotions he's feeling right now; especially the ache in his heart that comes from seeing his father so diminished.

"I guess you know by now that Penny was staying here."

Tommy is shocked that Pops opens with that admission, all he can do is nod his head in response.

"She was left the house next door by her parents but she lost it to the state, she never paid the taxes on it. If I had known I would have helped her out, made sure she kept it, but I didn't find out until after it was all said and done. I didn't know out what kind of shape _she_ was in until she came knocking on my door one night; she needed a place to hide from her pimp. That was about a month after Sparta. Now Tommy, before you go postal on me you need to know that she didn't want to see you, didn't want you to know how bad off she was. She was embarrassed, well at least she was when she had a little sobriety working for her. She swore to me that if you showed up here looking for her she'd run back to her pimp. I was scared that he'd kill her if she did. So I let her stay here and I took her to AA meetings with me until I could get her into some NA meetings." Paddy pauses to take a few pained, deep breaths and to pour coffee for the three of them. "She would do fine for a couple weeks and then one day she'd show up drugged out of her mind. All I could do was give her black coffee and watch to make sure that she didn't choke on her own puke. She wouldn't go to any hospital, she was afraid they'd stick her in jail."

Tommy wants to find fault with what Pops is saying but he can't. He saw for himself how out of control she was in the ER and he's pretty sure that Paddy would have been too afraid of her to push her into anything she wasn't willing to do.

"She stayed in the basement, I gave her a key to the back door so she could come and go as she pleased. She never came upstairs to eat or drink, never brought anyone home with her that I knew of either. I felt bad for the kid, I wanted to help her in some way, in the only way I could. I knew that as long as she was sleeping here she was safer than she would have been on the streets. I'm just sorry that it wasn't enough; I'm sorry for her to have met such a sad end." Paddy turns his eyes to Tommy; his visage is that of a man who's already dead but doesn't know it yet. Deep purple bruises outline his eyes and the effect reminds Tommy all too well of what his mother's eyes had looked like before she died.

"Now I'm sure you wanna know about the money I sent to Pilar." Taking a slow sip of his coffee, Paddy does his best to hide the shaking of his hand but Tommy and no doubt Brendan too, see it. He sits the mug back onto the table and sighs. "When I sent that man to look for you and your mother, Tommy, I sent him with a check for about two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I bought some stock a long time ago in a company that turned out to be pretty successful. Once I got sober the first time, I sold all of the stock. Yeah, I guess it stupid; some kind of bribery on my part to think I could buy your forgiveness and pay for all that I did to you and your mom. But it was the only way I could think of to reach out to you two. When the PI came back with the check in hand and the news about your ma, I chucked the money into a savings account. The fact that your mother had died eventually added a lot more to that account since I had a couple life insurance policies on her. I never touched a penny of it, I sent every dime of it after Uncle Sam took his cut to Pilar. I know you were planning on giving her the purse from Sparta. I knew you wouldn't let me do it if I'd asked but all I really wanted was to help that woman and her kids because they meant something to you."

Tommy's hand shakes violently as he lifts his mug up to his tight lips. He feels that any act of normalcy right now should help quell the intensity of his emotions but this isn't. He sits the mug back down on the table heavily and sloshes hot liquid all over the tablecloth. Neither Paddy nor Brendan seems to notice.

"Tommy, I know you can't forgive me and I understand why. I did bad shit to you and Brendan and especially your ma. I chose the bottle over you guys for so long and it cost me everything worth having. I lost the only woman I ever loved, I lost my son's and now I've lost my granddaughters too before I even got to know them. But it ain't about me, I see that now, I ain't trying to sit here and feel sorry for myself or to make you feel bad for me either. It's about what I've done to you both and the way that it's screwed up your lives. I can't even begin to tell you both how sorry I am. I never showed either one of you how much I loved you. I might have said it a few times but I never showed it, even though I felt it. I can't ask for your forgiveness no matter how bad I want it. There…" Paddy's voice breaks and Tommy sees tears streak down his father's haggard face, "there just aren't enough words or enough time. I gave nothing and expected everything…"

Brendan reaches over and takes Paddy's hand in his; he doesn't say anything, just holds Pops hand as the old man cries his tears of regret.

"I don't know how to forgive the old man who did those things to me," Tommy says, leaning across the table and staring into Paddy's eyes.

"Tommy, please…" Brendan whispers, mouthing the word _please_ again silently and pleading with his eyes.

"Let me finish Bren, okay?" Tommy holds up his hand and then brings it to his forehead. He takes a moment to gather his emotions, he's feeling unsure of what he knows he's going to say but knows that it needs to be said.

"I don't know how to forgive the mean old drunk who made my childhood a living hell, who beat my ma senseless and separated me from my brother before I was ready to let go. But as far as I can see…" Tommy clears his throat to keep the tears at bay, he needs to get this out before he loses his nerve, "as far as I can see that old man is long gone, dead, and the man I see in front of me is the dad I should have had. I can't be mad at you anymore Pops, it's eating me alive. We have to bury this hatred and bullshit right now, we need to bury the past and leave it underground. I can't say that things'll be perfect or that we're gonna be like the fuckin' leave it to Beaver's, but we gotta try. I just can't live with anymore regret. So I forgive you Pops, I forgive you and I'm leaving it all behind me today… right now."

His words come out in a slurred rush, his mind outgunning his mouth in an effort to get everything said and once he's done the tears come. Hot and fierce, the salty flow of them follows the eddies of his frown lines and plunge onto the fabric of his shirt. Each one represents a hurt or wrong from the past that he's letting go off.

Paddy leans forward into his hands, sobbing loudly. "Thank god for you Tommy, thank god for you Brendan…" is all he can say over and over. Brendan leans into his father's prone form and reaches for his brother's hand. _Thank you_, he mouths silently when Tommy turns his eyes to him.


	14. Chapter 14

_The childhood shows the man as morning shows the day. - John Milton_

The three Conlon men sit in silence around the weathered dining room table. The tears have stopped flowing but there's a palpable feeling of healing in the air. Tommy's heart feels lighter than it ever has. There is nothing more for him to be angry about, no emotional Sword of Damocles hanging above his head now. Pops is propped up on his elbows on the table top, staring blankly at the now cold coffee in his mug. No one seems to have the energy to move or even speak. Brendan's cell rings and breaks the silence. He jumps out of his chair to pull the phone out of his phone out of his hip pocket.

Looking at the caller ID he says to Tommy and Paddy, "It's Tess, I'll be back in a minute."

After Brendan leaves the room, Paddy clears his throat and taps his fingers on the table to get Tommy's attention.

"You need anything? " Tommy asks as he takes in his father's face; his color is ashen and the circles around his eyes have darkened more since he and Brendan arrived. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Actually there is, Penny's stuff is still downstairs. I guess it needs to be packed up and I can't make it up and down the stairs anymore. I guess it's obvious that I'm not in too good a shape." Paddy rubs his hand across his forehead, Tommy is surprised to recognize it's the same habit he has when he's overwhelmed or tired.

"I'll take care of it, Pops. Don't worry yourself about it. Do you… you need to lay down for a while?"

"Yeah kid, I think I do. I don't have much energy these days." Paddy tries to stand but can't seem to make the effort easily on his own. Tommy jumps out of his seat and hurries around the table to grab his father underneath his arms and help him to his feet. What he feels mortifies him; the man is skin and bones underneath the layers of shirts and a robe.

Walking his father down the short hallway to the bedroom he reaches around him and opens the door. Steeping inside is like traveling back in time. Nothing in this room has changed, absolutely not a thing. The same flowered wallpaper hangs on the walls, albeit it's coming off in places and is extremely faded. The same color coordinated comforter covers the bed, the same yellow curtains hang in dusty tatters on the windows. Helping Pops onto the bed, Tommy pulls down the covers and props the old man up on pillows after he gets him laid down. Looking around the room he notices that Pops still has the framed photo of the day he married Ma. It's the only thing that isn't covered in an inch of dust on the dresser.

"Tommy, would you mind handing me that bottle of pills?" Paddy asks, pointing to the chest of drawers next to the closet. Walking over to retrieve it, Tommy see's that there are still clothes that belonged to his mother hanging in there. He closes his eyes for a brief moment to stop his head from spinning. Looking down at the bottle he reads the name of the medicine it contains; Morphine.

"I didn't even know they made this shit in a pill form."

"Yeah me neither. I dissolve it under my tongue and then I'm out for a few hours at least. The pain is pretty constant."

"So when you startin' your chemo or whatever?" Tommy reaches the bedside and hands the bottle to his father.

"Ahhh, I've decided not to go that route."

"What do you mean?" Tommy feels his heart sinking, he doesn't like the sound of this. He just got his father back and now he's going to have to face losing him? Fuck that shit…

"Tommy, it's everywhere. It started in my stomach of all places and now its spread. Chemo only improves my chances slightly, as a matter of fact, the doctors advised me that the chemo might kill me because of all the damage I did to my body by drinking."

"Well there's gotta be something else right? I see those commercials all the time about curing cancer without chemo, what's that place called… Cancer centers or…" Tommy's pacing now, stuttering as he tries to make sense of how unfair all of this is.

"Tommy, look at me." The tone of his father's words stops him in his tracks. There is a tenderness contained in those four words that he can't recall ever having heard in his Pops voice. Paddy motions for Tommy to sit on the edge of the bed and he complies. Tears sting his eyes, threatening to overflow the dam of his lower lids again. He sniffles and looks at the ceiling until he feels sure he can keep from crying again. "I'm an old man, I've lived my life and while I have regrets about the things I should have done or done differently, I'm not afraid to go. Not now, anyways."

Tommy raises an eyebrow as he looks at his father, not really knowing what he means by the last sentence.

"I think I've held on as long as I have because I wanted the chance to say what I did today. This isn't something that happened recently you know, I knew I had it when we were at Sparta," Paddy pushes back into the pillows but never takes his eyes off of Tommy, "You know, you look like your Ma when you do that, you know, scrunch your forehead and raise that eyebrow."

Tommy feels the blood drain from his face, his stomach ties itself into a hard knot. He knows Paddy is trying to lighten the mood by comparing him to his mother but all he can think about is when he threw a cup of casino tokens in Paddy's face and told him to get the fuck away from him.

"Whatever you're thinking about just stop it right now; the things in the past need to stay there Tommy. You had every reason and right to be that mad at me and hate me. Don't go looking for reasons to be upset, let all that shit go. I'm not dead yet and I want to enjoy the time I have left getting to know you again, getting to know Brendan and Tess and my granddaughters too. I won't ask for much, I don't have any right to expect anything."

"I never hated you Pops. It would have been so much easier if I did," Tommy whispers hoarsely. It's more than he can handle and he finds himself crumpling onto Paddy's side, pushing his face into the worn comforter that he remembers watching his mother hang on the clothesline once a week. There is no sound to his angst, just the wracking, heaving of his chest as he lets go of hurt that was buried soul deep. He _never_ hated Paddy, as hard as he tried to he never achieved it. Instead he suppressed all the self-loathing and doubt about himself and covered it over with anger. He refused to concede that deep down he'd always wondered what was so wrong with him that his own father hated him. He couldn't admit, until now, that in the depths of his psyche he'd felt that something was so inherently wrong with him that he'd been the reason Paddy drank and beat his family. All these years he'd really believed that it was all his fault.

Paddy puts his arms around Tommy's head and soothes him as best he can. Tommy listens to Paddy's labored breaths and it breaks his heart. There's nothing that can be done for his father and now he's doomed to watch cancer take him too, just like his Ma.

Tommy sits up and wipes his face; he's embarrassed by the emotion and the fact that he's cried so many times today. Grabbing the pill bottle from where it lies on the bed he opens it and hands a tablet to his father. Paddy nods his thanks and uses a trembling hand to shove it underneath his tongue. Leaning back into the pillows he closes his eyes. "Thank you god for my boys, thank you god for another chance." he whispers.

Tommy hears shuffling at the bedroom door and turns to see Brendan standing there. His brother motions for him to come outside the room.

"Pops, I'll be here, if you need anything just yell." Tommy says close to Paddy's ear, not sure if he's fully awake any more.

Paddy nods his head with his eyes still closed. The medicine has slowed his breathing already and he seems on the edge of sleep. Tommy stands and heads out of the room, following Brendan into the living room.

"Tess is coming with the kids and Heather, they're bringing some pizza and Philly's. I don't know about you but I could eat a shoe right now."

"Brendan, I think you should know that Pops…"

"I heard. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I couldn't help it."

The two men stare at their feet and suddenly Brendan pulls Tommy into a tight embrace. They don't say anything, there are no tears; the two of them just support each other there in the living room of their childhood home. After a few minutes Tommy lets go and pats Brendan on the back.

"So Pops also told me that Penny's stuff is still in the basement, wants me to take care of it. Could you lend me a hand before the girls get here?"

"Anything you need Tommy. Anything."

88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88**88 **88**88**88**88**88**

The basement was pretty much the same as Tommy remembers it. It's dark, dank, and musty; not a very welcoming place. It was never somewhere he spent much time as a kid. He actually never came down here back then unless he was bringing up laundry for his mother or retrieving something for her or his father. Tommy looks to the left of the stairs and sees the door to the spare room. It had been a catch-all kind of place back in the day, it had held old clothes meant for Goodwill, trophies that overflowed from the shelves in the living room and Tommy's bedroom, sporting equipment and other miscellaneous things had also been stored in here. Tommy guesses that now it houses all that Penny Denton had owned in this world. What the fuck is he going to do with it; why is he so scared to open that door?

Looking back at Brendan to make sure he was still there behind him, he grasps the knob and turns it, opening the door into the room and flipping on the light. Tommy isn't sure what he was expecting but it isn't what he sees before him.

There is a twin bed on the far wall, neatly made with what Tommy is positive used to be one of their old bedspreads from upstairs. An arrangement of fake carnations sits on the small bedside table in an old glass with an old flip style alarm clock buzzing quietly beside it. A three drawer dresser is situated underneath the high, tiny window that looks out at yard level. A light blue valance is the only window dressing and fading daylight streams into the small room through it.

On top of the dresser are a few cosmetics and some perfume. A small framed picture sits beside the bottle of Lauren. Tommy walks over and picks it up; it's a photo of a young Penny next to her mother and father. She's wearing that look that tells him the abuse had already started, he can see it in her eyes. It's so clear to him now but he had no clue back then. Now every single person in that picture is dead and soon Brendan, Tess and he would be the only people left to remember Penny. Sitting the picture down he turns to Brendan and shrugs his shoulders; he has no clue what to do or where to start.

"I think I saw some boxes out by the back stairs. I'll go grab a couple and we'll start packing her clothes away."

Tommy nods and turns back to the dresser, opening the top drawer. Inside is underwear and he closes it quickly. He thinks to himself that he'll ask Heather or Tess to pack that drawer. Opening the second drawer he finds shirts; feeling much safer with the contents of this drawer he starts pulling them out and stacking them on the bed until Brendan returns. Making his way to the bottom of the drawer he spies something familiar in orange, white and black. His heart starts racing as he pulls it from the drawer. Unfolding it he turns it to look at the back and see's that it's his old autographed, game worn John LeClair jersey. Even though he'd been born and raised in Pittsburgh he'd never been a Penguins fan, preferring the flyers instead. John LeClair had been his idol, he'd possessed one of the most wicked slap shots in the league and was part of the "Legion of Doom". He was a classic goon but he'd been Tommy's favorite. His Ma had scored the jersey for him for Christmas, the last Christmas they'd spent here in Pittsburgh before running. He'd left it behind because he hadn't been able to find it in the scramble to get out before his Pops got home from work that day. How had Penny ended up with it?

Brendan comes back into the room and drops some empty boxes onto the floor. "Foods here, let's go eat before it gets cold. We've got some time in the coming week to box all this up."

Tommy looks down at the jersey and nods. He hears the running of tiny feet on the floor above them and he can't help but smile. Dropping the jersey on the bed he pushes past Brendan and heads up the steps to say hello to his nieces. The girls smile at him shyly as he emerges from the basement and he feels just as shy as he smiles back at them. Rosie runs up to him and lifts her hand towards him. Tommy looks at Tess, his eyebrow arched again because he's not sure what to do. Tess mimes that he should kiss his nieces hand so he leans over and plants a loud kiss on the top of it. Rosie giggles and turns to Emily.

"See, I told you he would know I'm a princess."

Emily rolls her eyes and turns to her mother. "Ma, I'm staaaaarving!"

"Alriiiight, let's set the table and get everyone together," Tess says, imitating her oldest daughters whining tone. She looks up at Tommy and smiles as she herds the girls towards the bathroom. "Let's start by washing our hands…"

Heather finally appears from around the corner and walks to Tommy's side. "Hey you," she says as she wraps her arms around his waist. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I think I am."

As the six of them sit down to dinner, Tommy looks around the table at everyone and thinks to himself that he's in a much better place than he'd ever been able to imagine. He starts to reach for a piece of pizza but Rosie intercepts his hand with her own and looks at him disapprovingly.

"Uncle Tommy, where is your manners?" She scolds him with such a fierce frown that he doesn't have the heart to smile.

"I'm sorry, what'd I do wrong?"

"We have to say Greats."

"Greats?"

"Yeah, we always have to say god is greats at Grandma's house or the food will be no good!"

Tess and Brendan laugh and receive the same scolding look that Tommy had.

"You want my pizza to be bad Mommy and Daddy?" Rosie is furious and she squeezes Tommy's hand for back up.

"You're right Rosie, we're all very sorry. Will you please say the greats for us?"

As they all joined hands and bowed their heads it was the first time that Tommy felt like he really had a family and the first time he felt like he didn't have to stumble through the world all alone. Tomorrow would be the proving ground; if he had the help of these people who sat around the table with him then he could endure it.


	15. Chapter 15

_Then on your tombstone, where you only get a little bit of space to sum up your life, some wax-faced creep chisels a set of meaningless numbers instead of poetry or a secret love or the name of your favorite candy. In the end, all you get is a few words. - Scott Nicholson_

_It's never over; she's a tear that hangs inside my soul forever. – Jeff Buckley _

The day is gray, cold and rainy. The weather mirrors the mood as Tommy puts on his only suit and looks at himself in the mirror; last night's optimism has given way to stony, cold grief this morning as he prepares to lay his childhood friend to rest.

"Maybe now you're at peace, Penny," he mumbles to the empty air of the bedroom. He hears the door creak open and Heather sticks her head in and gives him an apologetic smile.

"Babe, it's time to head out," she says. Looking at him from head to toe she smiles again and walks over to where he stands in front of her full length mirror. She tiptoes to kiss him and then sets about straightening his tie and brushing his shoulders off. Tommy stares down at her, wondering how he ever got so lucky to have found her.

"Thank you," he mumbles, looking away. Tommy's afraid to stare at her too long, afraid she'll see too much of him. She already has the power to break his heart and it scares him.

"For what?" she asks as she looks at herself in the mirror and straightens the simple black dress's hemline.

"For… just for being here, for being you."

Heather turns and smiles at him, brushing his cheek with the back of her hand. "Let's go Tommy."

Grasping his hand with hers she pulls him towards the door and out into the bleak day. Brendan, Tess and the kids are waiting outside already in their minivan. The whole group is going to caravan to Paddy's to pick him up and meet Teddy and a few other friends from high school and the old neighborhood at the cemetery. A grand total of about eleven people would be on hand to lay Penny Denton to rest.

Tommy sits in Heather's car and watches Brendan help Paddy down the narrow steps to the minivan. Pops looks older than his years, ashen and lifeless. It's more than time etched into his face, its hard living mixed with equal amounts of regret. It's in this moment that Tommy has his epiphany. Looking at Pops, a man who is emotionally and physically devastated, he realizes that's him in another 25 years. He will be his father if he doesn't make a change now, if he doesn't start living for today instead of in the past. He will become Paddy if he doesn't let go of all the demons that haunt and torment him. He'll be the child that continues the cycle because Brendan's already broken free.

Shoring up against the emotional storm he glances at Heather. She's looking straight ahead as Paddy climbs slowly into the front passenger's seat. As if she's read his mind (and he doesn't doubt that she can for a second) she says lowly, "That doesn't have to be your future, Tommy. Let me love you; let me show you how good life can be. Take a chance."

"You'd better be careful reading my mind like that Heather. You might hear some things that are gonna send you running away from me."

"I know you think that you could shock me, Tommy," Heather whispers as she takes her hand and turns Tommy's face towards her, "but you aren't thinking things that no one has ever thought before. You haven't done anything so terrible that it hasn't been done before. I've been in the lowest places a person can exist but you don't run away from me, do you?"

Tommy can't answer verbally; he can only shake his head as he looks into Heather's eyes, seeing nothing but love and acceptance there.

"I'm in this for the long haul, Tommy. I'm not going to run, I'm not going to betray the trust you're putting in me. I'm not going to break your heart."

Leaning across the small space dividing them, Tommy takes Heather's face into his hands and pulls her closer to kiss her. Relaxing in to his grasp she sighs deeply, contentedly. For a moment they both seem to forget the sad business at hand. Brendan honks the horn to let them know it's time to head to the cemetery and Tommy lets Heather go. Smiling tautly, he turns to face forward and breathes deeply. "You can get through this," he tells himself silently.

The rain slows to a misting as they pull up to the walkway leading to the plot. Tommy's heart is heavy and that lends to the same feeling in his legs. They don't want to carry him to the grave side; they don't want to participate in the finality of what's to come. Scrounging up as much courage as he can muster, he opens the door and steps out into the damp day. Looking around he sees Teddy, a few of the ER nurses and quite a few people he recognizes as people that knew Penny from high school. The fact that more showed up than expected eases him a little. Reaching for Heather's hand, Tommy slowly leads the sad parade towards the tent covering the casket and more than enough chairs to seat everyone.

The plot is on top of a small hill and overlooks a valley that unfortunately is crowded with smoke stacks spewing pollution into the already smoggy air. Penny will be laid to rest next to her mother and father; Jeff had informed the brothers that she already had a burial place when they had gone to insist that he transfer consent to them. Paddy is the last to make the climb, the last to be seated. He takes a seat between Brendan and Tommy; for the first time in his adult life Tommy draws strength from the nearness of his Father.

There is no pastor present, Tommy knew without question that Penny wouldn't have wanted some stranger standing over her lying about the kind of person she was. He also knew he didn't want people standing over her recounting all the wrongs and mistakes she made later in life. He was here to bury the sweet girl who always comforted him in his time of need; he was here to give a silent apology to who she became.

Once the crowd is seated Tommy gives Heathers hand a squeeze then stands and steps up to the small podium set up by the funeral home. Clearing his throat he looks out into the faces of his family and friends and some who are strangers to him. He has a moment of panic, thinking that he has nothing to say that any of these people want to hear, that he has no business standing up here for Penny after the way he abandoned her when she needed him. The he looks at Heather and finds his center, finds the strength in her encouraging smile and he begins to speak.

"Penny was my childhood friend. She was the first girl I ever kissed. She was a kind and sweet soul, the person who always stood by me when I needed courage, the one who ran with me when I needed to get away. She always understood me, I never had to say a word to her, she just knew," he pauses, looks at his feet, unsure if he should say what's on his mind or not. Taking another deep breath he looks up at the tent ceiling and continues. "Many of you here knew Penny as a drug addict, as a violent person. That wasn't Penny, it was the circumstances of her life and how she reacted to things that were beyond her control. Please don't remember the person she was later in life. Remember the girl who was always the first person to stand up for other people. Remember the girl who laughed like no one was listening, the one who had a smile that could light up a room. Remember that girl, honor the person she should have been, would have been if the world had been a little kinder to her."

The rest of the service is a blur to Tommy. Later he won't be able to recall much of anything anyone else said specifically. Mostly people got up and told stories about Penny from school; how she was a prankster, how she always championed for people who couldn't stand up for themselves, what a sweet girl she always was…

Tommy is the first to place a white rose on her casket. Everyone else follows suit and soon her final resting place is blanketed in white. Tommy had requested that she not be lowered until the mourners were gone from the graveside. He can't bear to see it and he doesn't think she would want anyone to be present for it. He's peeved with himself that he seems to be assuming a lot about what Penny would and would not want but his gut tells him he is doing the right thing.

Walking down the pathway to the cars Tommy helps his brother steady Paddy. The old man hadn't said anything during the service, he'd merely sat there and nodded his head mournfully, pain etched into his skin like lines in stone. When they reach Brendan's minivan Tommy helps his father into the front passenger seat while Brendan and Tess strap the girls into their car seats. Paddy reaches into the center console and pulls out a plastic grocery bag, handing it to Tommy.

"What's this?" Tommy asks, taking the bag.

"It's your Flyers jersey. I think you should take it with you. Penny wore this a lot; I think she slept in it when she was home. She found it in some of the stuff you and your ma left behind and asked me if she could have it. I didn't think I would ever see you again so I gave it to her. It meant something to her just like it meant something to you once upon a time."

"Thanks," Tommy says as he stares at the Shop n' Save logo on the bag. "Yeah I saw this downstairs yesterday when I was starting to box up her things. I appreciate you, uh, bringing this to me. I'll make it over sometime this week to get the rest of her things together. I guess I can donate it to a shelter or something."

"Sure Tommy, no rush, that would be a nice thing for you to do," Paddy whispers as he looks at him through watery eyes. "Tommy, I know it won't mean much but I sure am proud of what you did today. Penny woulda been proud of you too. She hated when people sugar coated things."

Tommy just stares at his feet, unable to admit to his father that he does appreciate the praise from him. Being willing to forgive doesn't include dropping all the wariness of Paddy's motivations and intentions. The wall is still up and probably always will be, but at least there is room for change in Tommy's heart now. Without any forethought, Tommy instinctively leans into the van and places his arms around his father. It's the first time he's ever embraced the man in his life. Paddy is shocked stiff for a moment and then leans into Tommy's shoulder, his body shaking with silent sobs of relief.

"Go home and get some rest Pops, Heather and I will stop by later to check on you."

Paddy nods as he wipes his eyes and Tommy steps back to close the van door. Brendan comes around and gives him a hug followed by Tess. Rosie and Emily wave goodbye to him from the back seats of the van. Heather comes up beside him as the van pulls away, pulling him to her.

"You ready to head home babe?"

"I got one more thing I need to do," he says as he heads up the hill one last time. Jogging until he reaches the funeral director he requests that the casket be opened. The director doesn't argue, it seems he's used to these last minute request. Using a small tool, the man gently slides it along the edge of the light brown wood. Tommy hears metal clicking and seconds later the top half of the casket is open. Looking down at Penny's remains he stifles a moan. He's not prepared for the devastation her fall caused to her head. Determined to accomplish what he came here to do, he takes his Flyers jersey out of the bag and folds it so the team logo is facing outwards. He leans forwards and drapes the sweater over Penny's folded hands. He turns and nods at the director then heads back down to where Heather is waiting for him.


	16. Chapter 16

_The turning point in the process of growing up is when you discover the core of strength within you that survives all hurt." - Max Lerner_

Walking up the steps to Heather's third floor apartment Tommy feels lighter, freer than he can ever remember. It seems almost like a betrayal to the friend he just buried to allow himself to feel this way but he can't suppress it.

Heather is saying something to him about bringing more of his stuff over but he's not paying much attention to anything other than the way her ass moves inside of the tight black skirt she has on.

"Tommy? Have you heard a word I've said?" she asks as she fumbles inside of her clutch for her house keys.

Tommy doesn't think about what he's doing before he acts on the impulse. Grabbing Heather by the shoulders he spins her around, sending her clutch and keys flying. "What the…" is all she has time to mutter before Tommy's mouth closes over hers, his tongue assaulting her lips, forcing its way past and assaulting her tongue. His hand slides up between her legs, finding its way to her underwear that he tears off of her effortlessly. He slides two fingers inside of her and finds her wet, so wet that he moans into her mouth.

"Tommy…" she pants as he pushes her up against the wall and falls to his knees. He's insane with want and desire as he parts her with his tongue and explores all the places that he knows will make her tremble. She has neighbors but he doesn't give a fuck, he needs to taste her. Something about the idea that they could get caught any second has him rock hard and almost ready to explode inside his suit pants. She tastes like heaven as he leaves no part of her untouched; he sucks her into his mouth and draws a loud gasp from her. Her knees start to shake and her hands find the back of his head and press him into her hard as she nears release. He knows the moment she starts to come, the convulsions bring her sliding down the wall, gasping for air, her eyes rolled upwards as she shakes.

Tommy stands and gathers her keys, unlocks the door and kicks her clutch inside the apartment. Turning back to where Heather still lays against the wall he grabs her ripped thong and uses it to tie her hands together and then slings her over his shoulder. He's careful not to bump her head into the door frame as he slides inside the apartment but that's about all the mercy she can expect from him. He feels her body still shuddering from his surprise attack outside and smiles to himself.

Making his way to the bedroom he tosses Heather gently onto the bed and about the same time she realizes her hands are tied rather tightly together with her ruined panties. Bringing the knot to her mouth she tries to undo it with her teeth.

"Nah babe, I ain't done with you yet. We'll see just how serious you are about sticking around for the long haul after I'm done."

Heather smiles and starts to work on the knot again with a wicked gleam in her eye but Tommy grabs her wrists and pulls them above her head, hooking the material over a part of the ornate metal bedframe. Reaching into his gym bag beside the bed he pulls out his hand wraps and secures the wrist restraint further to the headboard. Using extra bandaging he ties her feet to the footboard; now she's spread eagle on the bed and under his control. Removing his tie he drapes it over the nightstand; Heather might need further restraint; he's about to bring out the wildcat that he knows is hiding in there somewhere. So far the sex between them has been very vanilla but he has fantasies and he's finally found someone he's comfortable with and who he knows will be more than willing to act them out with him.

Reaching into his gym bag again he pulls out the tape scissors and turns to Heather.

"I don't know how attached you are to this outfit but I'll tell you now that it's about to be trash."

Before Heather can protest he cuts up the side of the skirt nearest to him and slides it out from underneath her. Warning her with his gaze against saying anything, he slides the scissors underneath the hem of her blouse and cuts it up the side as well. A few more snips and he has the garment cut off; only her brassiere remains.

"This looks expensive," Tommy teases as she runs a finger up Heathers side to the lace of her bra. "Is it?"

Heather nods and starts to say something but Tommy silences her by cutting through the lace on each side and then chopping the straps savagely with the dulling shears. Pulling the remains of what was probably indeed an expensive brassiere off of her body, Tommy leans forward and lazily swirls his tongue around Heathers nipple.

"Anyone ever tell you that you taste like a peach?" he asks as he leans over and takes his time teasing her other nipple into a hardened peak. Heather doesn't answer, choosing instead to arch her back, trying to get more of her breast into his mouth. Tommy makes a chiding noise with his tongue.

"Now if I have to I'll tie you down do hard you won't even be able to move a toe. Don't move unless I tell you too. Understand?"

Tommy opens the bedside table drawer and pulls out a purple vibrator. Heather immediately blushes and starts to say something but thinks better of it.

"I found this under the edge of the mattress when we changed the sheets the other day. Let me guess, you're keeping this for a friend?" Heather doesn't say anything but glares defiantly at Tommy instead. "Whatchu keeping this for when you have me? Maybe you like this sort of thing better than what I can do for you?" Tommy's teasing, he knows Heather hasn't had a moment to herself for the better part of three weeks now but he loves the shade of red she's turning as he switches the vibe on and off again. "I don't know what all the fuss is about with these things. Maybe you can help me figure it out."

Standing up he makes short work of removing all of his clothes, turning around to take his underwear off to give Heather a good view of his ass; he knows she loves the muscles there more than any other. Walking to the foot of the bed he crawls over her restrained limbs and positions himself carefully between her legs, his face directly in front of her sex. Twisting the vibrator again and hearing the quiet buzzing noise he parts Heather gently with his fingers. She's wetter than before and the heat coming off of her body is immense. She's shaking already and he's just getting started. Tommy moves his finger up and down the length of her, spreading her wetness. Looking up at her, smiling mischievously with one eyebrow cocked, he lowers the vibe onto her center. She immediately bucks her hips and looks down at him, her mouth shaped into a perfect "o". Tommy pulls the toy away and uses his tongue, tracing the same path his finger had taken, moaning at the taste of her. Reaching her center he swirls his tongue around it and then traps it between his soft lips. Heather cries out at the contact and pulls against the restraints.

Tommy gives her a moment to calm down before repeating the act, vibrator then tongue. Over and over he makes the same actions until he can see the sweat popping out all over Heathers body. Every time she gets close to release he stops until the trembling subsides.

"You okay baby?" he asks as he looks up at her heaving chest. She doesn't answer; she's playing along but he knows she ready to explode from his denying her. "I bet you wanna come so hard right now don't you? Answer me."

"Please Tommy," she whimpers, her voice merely a breathy whisper.

'I want you to tell me how good it feels, what I'm doing to you. When you convince me, I'm gonna fuck you so hard, I'm gonna make you come so hard that you won't ever look at this silly little piece of plastic again. Ain't nothing gonna feel good to you anymore but me, Heather. I'm the only thing that can make you come. So tell me, tell me what you want me to do, how to make you come."

His own words have him at a breaking point; he won't be able to keep out of her for much longer. He presses his tongue onto her clit again and Heather cries out.

"Jesus Tommy, don't stop, don't stop because that's how I want you to make me come." She's watching him as he quickens his actions. The look in his eyes is sheer intensity; in the end it's that look that sends her over the edge. It's the single-most earth shattering release that she's ever experienced, her breathing is so shallow Heather feels like she might pass out. The feeling is white hot and spreads from where Tommy has his mouth all throughout the rest of her body.

Sitting up between her legs, Tommy turns and unties her ankles then reaches above her to release her hands. He effortlessly flips her over and positions her with her ass in the air in front of him. He's so hard that he can feel his heartbeat in every inch, so ready to be inside of her that he's the one shaking now. Heather is like putty in his hands, still riding the waves of her orgasm. He finds her entrance and pushes in slowly.

"Fuuuuuck," he moans as the silky wetness envelopes him. He pulls out and presses forward again, this time harder. He watches as Heather puts her hands against the headboard, bracing herself.

"Harder," she moans.

"I don't think I gave you permission to talk," he grunts as he plows into her hard enough to send her forward into the mattress.

Lifting herself up onto her hands again, Heather turns her head to the side, looking at him in the mirror over the dresser.

"I don't think you can fuck me hard enough," she says, her expression is completely deadpan.

Tommy laughs and thrusts forward as he pulls back viciously on her hips. Their bodies slam together and one of the legs on the bed breaks, sending the mattress into a slant, sliding towards the floor. "I don't think you know what kinda shit you just talked yourself into."

Keeping his hands on her hips, he pulls her back into each thrust. With each penetration Heather cries out, her knuckles white as she grips the headboard. Soon she's pushing back into him, her actions mirroring his own, matching his speed and intensity. She cries out loudly and Tommy knows she coming again; he can feel her contracting around him like a silken vice. The feeling is too much, he can feel his own orgasm build and soon he's spilling inside of her, calling her name.

They're in the floor now, the bed having completely collapsed at some point, sending them off onto the hardwood. Tommy feels himself slide out of Heather; he flops onto his side rolls over on to his back. Heather is still on her knees with her face resting against the cool floor; she smiles weakly at Tommy when he turns his head to face her.

"All that over a little vibrator?"

"You okay?" he pants as he reaches for her.

"I'm better than okay. Maybe boneless at the moment, my legs feel like jello and you ruined my only nice bra. But hell yeah, I'm okay."

"I don't ever want to hurt you, you know that right?" Tommy is leaning above Heather now and she falls over onto her side and looks up at him.

"Tommy, you didn't hurt me. I'm not a china doll that's gonna break. I think you just showed me a lot of trust and I hope you know how much trust I just showed you."

Tommy nods and looks away, "I do."

"Just promise me one thing, Tommy."

"Yeah?"

"Promise me that isn't the last time you'll do something like that. Don't make me hide vibrators all over this apartment for you to find, because I will."


	17. Chapter 17

After a failed attempt at rebuilding the bedframe Tommy and Heather decide perhaps it's safer to leave the box spring and mattress on the floor. Maybe they would go shopping for something sturdier later on. Something has changed in Tommy; anyone with eyes would be able to see it. There's a sparkle in his eye that wasn't there before. He seems alive instead of just existing. And as much as it's visible, he can feel it tenfold in comparison. An abject, unnamed fear has been lifted from his soul. He's not afraid of being hurt by someone's actions or intentions anymore; for the first time in his life he's actually living a life he can be proud of.

"Say Heather, you mind if we swing by and check on Pops?"

"Not at all, I was thinking we could stop by Dales and grab something to go, maybe take it over and eat with him?"

Tommy just smiles as he heads for the shower. He hears Heather's footsteps close behind and he knows she's thinking the same thing he is.

In the shower the two of them meld together seamlessly; there is no rush, no frenzy. The movements are slow and purposeful. This is miles beyond the down and dirty sex they'd had in the hallway and on the bed; Tommy is making love to Heather. It's not just a physical thing for him anymore. He can't deny it, he doesn't want to; he's falling head over heels in love with Heather.

He presses Heather up against the shower tiles, lifting her with his arms and thrusting up into her, causing her to cry out and dig her nails into the back of his neck. His mouth takes turns with each breast teasing her nipples with his tongue and lips. The shower curtain is open, Heather insisted on it being this way so she could watch his ass as he works himself in and out of her. Watching her face as she watches him thrusting into her is a turn on beyond measure. Her eyes are heavily lidded and her mouth is a half-smile; it's pure sex. The expression is one that Tommy swears silently to himself that he will put on her face at least once a day from here on out.

"Tommy," she whimpers and he knows she's getting close. His thrusts increase in intensity but not speed; he wants her climax timed with his. His mouth moves to hers as her hands make their way down to his ass. She presses her fingers into the muscles there, urging his deeper, harder.

"You ready for me? I can't hold it back, come with me…" Tommy gasps into her neck as he feels the first waves of his release wash over him. His legs weaken and for a second he thinks he might fall and take her down with him but Heather unwinds her legs from around him and steadies them both by standing.

Neither one says a word as they go about washing themselves and preparing to visit Paddy but it's not an uncomfortable silence. They smile at each other as they climb out of the shower and dry off. Being careful to keep their hands to themselves they dress in a continued silence. They both know that one sentence, one brush of a hand and they'll be naked and rutting again like animals. The sun is setting quickly even though it's still early. Winter days in the 'burgh are short on daylight.

Brendan and his family left for Philadelphia after the funeral so Paddy has been alone for most of the day. Tommy doesn't care for that and just as he's about to ask Heather a question she reads his mind again, cutting him off at the pass.

"I know some CNA's who do home health care on the side. They're real affordable and would be great for helping Paddy at home. I know you must be worried about him being alone there since he's so weak these days."

"Girl you need to stop doing that," he teases but he's thankful that she seems to be one step ahead of him. "Anyone in particular you recommend?"

After making a couple of phone calls, Heather has around the clock care arranged for Paddy. All three women agree to a wage that Tommy can comfortably swing with his commission from the gym. Heather wants to contribute as well but Tommy says no.

"You do so much for me already."

"Well then, let me ask you this and please don't get freaked out or feel pressured… but what do you say to moving in here with me so you don't have the rent on your apartment to pay? We can get your name on the lease if it would make you feel better."

"Are you sure that's whatchu wanna do?" he asks, looking down at his shoes. He knows without a doubt that he wants to spend every night lying in bed next to her and waking up beside her every morning. But is she offering this because she really wants to? He's not so sure.

"Well, I was kind of tempted to go back to The Pleasure Chest and stock up on dildos and vibrators…"

Tommy reaches for Heather but she's too quick, leaping out of the way before he can get his hands on her.

"That's okay. I'll getcha. Might not be now, might not me today, but you'll pay for that little dig, sweetheart." Tommy does his best to look and sound menacing but he knows he isn't fooling her.

"I can't wait," Heather smirks as she starts to run a brush through her long hair. "Say, you wanna call ahead and order so we can just run in and out of Dales and get over to your Pops house before it gets much later?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'll call from my apartment, I need to run over and get a couple things from my place since we're gonna be roomies and all."

Jogging to the front door he opens it just as a woman standing outside has her hand raised to knock.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must have the wrong apartment," she says as she turns to walk away. But Tommy knows she doesn't because he recognizes her from the picture beside Heather's bed. This is Olivia, Heather's mother, and he already doesn't like her.

"Ms., um, Olivia?" He calls after the retreating figure and she stops in her tracks. "You're looking for Heather, right?"

The woman turns on her heels and returns to the doorway, looking Tommy up and down with undisguised disdain. "And just whom might you be?"

From behind Tommy he hears Heather, "Mother, this is my friend Tommy Conlon, Tommy, this is my mother Olivia Hunter."

Brushing past Tommy into the living room, Olivia hands her purse and jacket to Heather and sets down on the couch in a huff.

"I've been calling you for weeks Heather but I never can seem to get you on the phone. I've needed you to come home to Tennessee to help me. You've spent enough time here in this shithole of a town and god knows it isn't doing a thing for your figure or your complexion. Get me an ashtray, will you?"

"Mother, I told you, Pittsburgh is my home now. I'm not coming back to Tennessee. And I don't want you smoking in here." Heather's voice is soft, slightly defensive. Tommy can see how intimidated she is by this woman and it's doing nothing to quell the anger he feels rising up.

"First off missy, you don't tell me shit. I am your mother and you will give me respect. Secondly, I need you home. My health is getting worse and I need your help with things. How long is it going to take you to get your shit packed and ready to go? And get me a god damned ashtray." Olivia lights a cigarette and blows the smoke directly in Heathers face. It's the tipping point for Tommy's temper.

"Didn't you just hear what she said lady?" Tommy feels his heartbeat in his teeth he's so angry, his nostril flare and he shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing the old witch by the collar and chucking her out the window. "She said this is her home now, she ain't goin' nowhere. And you need to put out that damn cigarette."

"Are you really gonna let this meathead stand there and talk to your mother like this?" Olivia looks at Heather wildly, flinging her hands around.

"She don't speak for me, lady. Heather is with me now and she's staying right where she is."

"She's my daughter…"

"Yeah some kinda mother you been, yeah? Throwing her down the fucking stairs, beating her? Yeah I seen the scars your kind of mothering's left on her back." Tommy's in a rage now, thinking about all the pain this woman has caused Heather, wanting to smack the hell out of her but knowing he would never hit a woman no matter how wretched she was.

"Did you tell him that? Did you tell him the same lies that you tell everyone? That I hit you?" Olivia's face is a mask of rage and he can see now why Heather is still so intimidated by this woman.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I remember now, you found Jesus, yeah? So now the past is erased, right? You're a fuckin' despicable monster."

"You lying little slut, how DARE you smear my name like this!" Olivia flicks her cigarette onto the floor and makes her way towards Heather with her hand upraised. Tommy turns to grab her by the shoulder but Heather raises her own hand and stops Olivia in her tracks.

"How dare you, Mother, how dare you come in here with your demands and your false memories. How dare YOU come in here and disrespect the man I love, disrespect ME in MY OWN HOME," Heather is walking towards Olivia now, making the older woman back towards the front door. Heather throws the coat at her first, followed by her purse. "You take your things and you get the hell out of my life. You don't call me because I'm changing my phone number. You don't write me because I'll burn anything you send me, unopened. You don't darken my doorway because I'll get a restraining order and then I'll get you held for a psych evaluation that you know you won't pass. My time dealing with you and your abuse is over. There's nothing I can do to help you but I can help myself by cutting you out of my life for good. Take your crazy ass back to Tennessee and don't you ever contact me again. If I have to repeat one word of this to you I'm calling the cops and having you arrested for threatening me with physical violence."

Olivia stands there in front of the front door with her mouth hanging open. She looks from Heather to Tommy as if she can't believe what's just happened. Tommy doesn't doubt for a second that it's the first time Heather has stood up to her mother. Reaching behind the older woman he grabs the knob and opens the door. Smiling at her with his toothiest grin Tommy says, "Make tracks."

"I hope I die and that the thought that you turned your back on me haunts you for the rest of your miserable life." Olivia spits at Heather. Turning to Tommy she sneers, "You don't know what you're getting yourself into, boy. She'll suck the life outta you just like she did to me." Tommy steps right up to Olivia and looks down into her face, making her cringe.

"Let me tell you something, I'll spend the rest of my life making Heather happy and we'll have a beautiful wedding someday that you won't be invited to, we'll have kids that you'll never see. We'll have a family and our kids will have the mother that Heather should have had instead of the scumbag you turned out to be. So yeah, go back to Tennessee and die, all alone. Beat it, bitch." The controlled anger seethes through Tommy's words and Olivia pales as the truth and brevity of what he's said sinks in.

Turning without another word, Olivia leaves. As soon as she's gone and Tommy's closed the door, Heather is on the phone with her friends at 911 dispatch.

"I need you to send a bus to Brentwood, 3400 block. There is an obviously mentally disturbed woman walking; 5'3, blonde hair in an updo, black coat, blue jeans, and red sweater. And Cindy, it's my mother, I'm sure since I've just cut ties with her she's going to attempt some behavior to try and get sympathy, it's her pattern…"

Tommy walks back into the bedroom; he wants to give Heather some privacy. He can hear murmured details being passed to dispatch. His heart breaks for her, even after how that woman just came in here and degraded Heather, she's still looking out for her mother. Moments later Heather comes in and stands next to Tommy, resting her head on his arm.

"Listen, I'm sorry if I was out of line in there, I just…"

Heather spins around to face him, tears flowing down her face. "Don't apologize for that! Don't you understand? That's the first time anyone has ever stood up for me, the first time anyone has seen her for the monster she is."

Tommy gathers Heather into his arms and holds her tightly against him until the crying stops. "I will always be your defender, Heather. I love you. Maybe it's too soon to be saying it but I feel it so strong," Tommy whispers into her hair, breathing in the smell of her, never wanting to let her go.

"Oh Tommy, I love you too. So much…"


End file.
